


Beauty and The Beast: A Proper Aromantic & Asexual Retelling

by aroace_fairytales



Category: Beauty and the Beast - Fandom, Fairy Tales - Fandom, Rewritten Fairy Tales
Genre: Mild Language, Minor Violence, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-10-05 05:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10298354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroace_fairytales/pseuds/aroace_fairytales
Summary: With tragedy tainting her childhood, Beauty struggles to find her place in her own home. Her only true companion is her father, who travels frequently and leaves her alone with her older, selfish siblings. When Father returns from a trip one day with a frightening secret, Beauty decides she can no longer allow fate to determine her life. It is time to protect her family – even if it means never seeing them again.





	1. A Sense of Doom

_The sweet scent of roses mingled with the crisp morning air as Beauty skipped down a narrow path around the sparkling lake. A slight breeze produced a few ripples on the surface of the water and caressed the young girl’s rosy cheeks._

 _“Beauty?”_

_The girl paused and turned around to face the dark gray mansion behind her. She grinned, then sprinted toward the handsome woman calling to her._

_“You look quite refreshed, darling,” the woman laughed, brushing a stray lock of dark brown hair behind her ear._

_“It is so beautiful this morning, mother! The birds have been singing to me for hours and the flowers are perfect for a bouquet,” Beauty rushed, her eyes twinkling. “Have you ever seen a morning more exquisite than this?”_

_“Exquisite? And which book did you learn that word from?” her mother asked in amusement._

_“The book Father gave me before he left on his trip, An Exquisite Day in Paradise. It’s a murder mystery!”_

_Frowning, Beauty’s mother shook her head. “Why do you not read normal books about love, like your sisters do?”_

_Beauty wrinkled her nose. “Love is boring. Mysteries are exciting. Father says that romance books do not teach anything useful.”_

_“Speaking of your father, he just arrived and would like to see you.”_

_“He did?” Beauty squealed, her face flushing with excitement as she presented a handful of colorful wild flowers neatly arranged in her tiny hands. “May I take him these flowers?”_

_“Beauty?”_

_“Yes, mother?”_

_Silence._

_Beauty tilted her head and stared up at her mother. The former elegance of the woman began to fade as her face paled and she began to shake._

_“Mother? Mother, what’s wrong?”_

_“Bea…uty…” her mother murmured quietly, then her body vanished into thin air._

_“Mother!”_

“Beauty! Beauty, wake up!”

“No…mother…come back…” I mumbled, as my body began to violently rock back and forth.

“Wake up, damnit! You’re talking in your sleep and it woke me up. Again.”

The dream disappeared as I groggily opened my eyes. Maricelle, my older sister, stopped shaking my shoulders and took a step away from the bed.

“Cursing does not befit a lady.”

Maricelle and I glanced over at the door where our oldest sister stood, arms crossed and a judgmental expression on her face.

“Delphine…did I wake you as well?” I asked, pushing my pillow against the wall so I could sit upright.

“No, I was already awake and heading to the kitchen,” Delphine shrugged, then turned her gaze upon Maricelle. “Mother would not be proud of your language, Maricelle. You are spending too much time with the merchants Father brings here.”

“Perhaps if Father did not force us to live in this tiny farm house instead of our real home–” Maricelle whined.

“That is not Father’s fault,” I interrupted. “If you want to blame someone, blame his business partner! But not Father.”

“I do blame Father and you cannot stop me. He is irresponsible. I had dozens of suitors when we lived in our manor, and now–”

“You’re a common whore,” Delphine cut in, her tone dry.

Maricelle glowered at her sister. “Judge not lest ye be judge, Delphine. I know you invite some of Father’s merchants to spend nights with you.”

I rubbed my temples, attempting to ease the repetitive, daily argument. I could practically quote it word for word. “Where is Father?”

“Preparing for his trip. Or drunk in his bed, I do not know.”

“Maricelle!” I gasped, my eyes widening. “Why do you hate him so?”

“Father is to blame for our misfortune and you should not be defending him,” Maricelle sniffed, then slammed the door behind her as she and Delphine left the small room. The door knob jiggled from the impact, then fell to the wooden floor with a thud.

With a soft sigh, I slipped out of bed and padded to my door. I picked up the door knob and pushed it back onto the door with a dull click. Glancing back at my straw tick and musty blankets, I tried to quell the longing to return to my dreams where life was perfect, mother was alive, and roses decorated everything.

“Beauty, you lazy girl! I need help in the kitchen,” Delphine yelled, her strong voice nearly shaking the thin walls.

“Yes, ma’am,” I responded, raising my voice just enough for Delphine to hear. A rather peculiar grunt signified that Delphine had heard my reply.

I changed out of my nightgown into a simple blue frock, which was slightly too short and revealed my petticoats underneath. After tugging in vain to lengthen the skirts, I gave up and quickly ran my fingers through my curly hair. I retrieved a faded blue ribbon from under my straw tick then tied my hair in a loose tail behind my neck.

A quick rap on the door, followed by the loose door knob once more falling to the ground, caused me to spin around with a tiny yelp.

“Beauty? Are you awake, daughter?”

Recovering my composure, I laughed. “Yes, Father.”

The door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged man with a ruddy complexion and graying curls of hair. Despite his age, I was convinced he was the most handsome man in the whole country.

“May I come in?” Father smiled, bowing slightly.

“Of course,” I returned his smile, walking toward him and greeting him with a kiss on his cheek.

He pulled me to him, holding me in a tight embrace. “I am leaving in a few hours. I know not when I shall return.”

As he released me, I fought back the lump growing in my throat. “I will miss you, Father. You make this life more bearable when you are here.”

“I will miss you too, my sweet Belle.” Father’s voice cracked and he lowered his head.

My lips turned upward into a small smile at the mention of my birth name. Only my father used it. Even my mother had used the name Beauty when I was but an infant.

“You will assist your sisters and brothers. Perhaps they mean well, but their minds are not focused on daily tasks as they should be.”

Chuckling, I shook my head. “They are much more concerned with the wonders of the lads and ladies in the village.”

“And yet you are not?”

Tilting my head, my expression turned from amused to pensive. “No. I love many things like my books, and the newborn kittens in the barn…and you, Father. I do not need anything or anyone else.”

“Perhaps I am selfish, but it warms my heart to hear you say that. I love you, my darling.”

“I love you too, Father.”

“Perhaps one day you will find a husband,” Father murmured, smoothing my unruly curls around my forehead.

I smiled but gently shook my head. “I do not need love from anyone but you to complete me.”

“Beauty, where are you?” Delphine screeched, interrupting the blissful moment.

Father burst into laughter and shook his head. “It appears Delphine requires your assistance in the kitchen.”

“It certainly does,” I agreed, planting a quick peck on my father’s cheek before sprinting into the kitchen to appease my older sister.

~*~*~*~*~

“Father, aren’t you going to ask us what we want?” Delphine crossed her arms, a pout marring her otherwise attractive features.

“Delphine. There is no guarantee that I have the money to bring back–”

“You always let us tell you what we want.”

“I know, however–”

“Father!”

Father sighed, setting his pack down on the threshold. “Gather your brothers and I shall make a list. Beauty, here is my book. Write down the requests.”

I nodded, accepting the leather bound journal and taking a seat at the kitchen table. I untied the quill from the leather cover and dipped it into a glass jar of black ink Father always kept in the middle of the table.

“I found Harrison and Jonathan, but James is in the village with his favorite whor–I mean, woman,” Delphine rushed to cover up her language, cringing at Father’s stern glare.

“Father, I want a set of armor!” Harrison announced, sauntering into the kitchen through the side door. The boy’s dark blonde hair accented his fair skin, similar to Father in his younger days.

“Armor?” Father laughed. “I am going on a merchant trip, not to battle.”

“I want it. The rich boys in the village have their own sets of armor–”

“They’re rich, Harrison. We are not.”

Harrison’s thick brows furrowed together and he planted his feet firmly on the floor. “I said, I want it.”

I cringed as I noticed Father shrinking in his boots at Harrison’s intimidating display of strength.

“Very well. I will do my best.”

“Good! I’ll tell Jonathan to finish up in the barn to put in his request,” Harrison grinned, his demeanor changing swiftly as he jogged out of the house.

“Write down a set of armor for Harrison,” Father sighed.

Frowning, I opened my mouth to protest but the sight of Father’s fear of Harrison silenced me. I opened the book to a blank page and, with great care, wrote out the request.

“I want a green, silk dress with green silk pumps,” Delphine demanded.

“And I want pearls! Lots of pearls! Necklaces, earrings, broaches, bracelets,” Maricelle broke in.

“Oh, and I simply must have a gold sash for my red dress.”

“Well I want a new silk dress too!” Maricelle whined.

“You are just copying my list,” Delphine hissed, glaring at her sister.

“I am not! I wanted a silk dress before you said anything,” Maricelle defended, crossing her arms and returning Delphine’s vicious glare.

“Write it all down, Beauty.”

“Really, Father?” Delphine and Maricelle gasped unanimously.

“Yes,” Father muttered, picking up his pack and adjusting it on his back. “Although it’s against my better judgement.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! We love you so much, Father,” Delphine squealed.

“Yes, so much!” Maricelle chimed in, her smile wider than ever.

I sighed, then transcribed my sisters’ wishes. How utterly disgusting they are. Hating Father behind his back until he gives them what they want.

“I need to tidy up a space in my room for my new things,” Delphine grinned, then disappeared down the hall.

“Me too,” Maricelle agreed, dashing after Delphine.

“Has he left yet?” A voice cried, an urgent tone lacing the words.

“No, Jonathan. I have not,” Father replied as his youngest son raced into the kitchen, leaving the rotting door swinging on its rusty hinges.

“Good,” Jonathan exhaled. “I want you to bring me the finest horse you can find! And white as snow. Perhaps a two year old, so I can break it myself. And it must be a stallion, of course.”

Glancing up at Father, I met his tired gaze as he nodded. I wrote down Jonathan’s request as he left the kitchen faster than he had arrived.

After blowing on the ink to dry it, I closed the book and reattached the quill to the cover. I handed it to Father with a small smile.

“I wish you well on your trip, Father.”

“Wait…Beauty, surely there is something you desire?”

I hesitated, closing my eyes to imagine a gift. My eyelids fluttered open and I grinned. “A rose. Like the ones we grew at the mansion.”

Father pressed his lips to my forehead. “I will bring you ten roses, if that is what you wish.”

“Only if it is not too much trouble,” I stared up at him anxiously.

“I promise I will bring you ten roses, my love. Your request is simple and pure, unlike that of your siblings.”

“Then I shall plant them and nurture them until we have hundreds of roses around our house,” I exclaimed, throwing my arms around Father and holding him tightly.

“You are the true rose, Belle,” he breathed into my ear before pulling away.

“Goodbye, Father. Safe travels.”

He nodded his head, then trudged over the threshold to a rickety wagon pulled by an old mule. As he glanced over his shoulder, I waved and then closed the door.

Pressing my back against the door, I slid down it until I was sitting on the ground with tears streaming down my pale face. My stomach turned and a sense of doom settled over me.

“Please come home safely, Father. Please,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “I cannot lose you too.”


	2. The Flames of a Nightmare

_Four months later…_

“Beauty, hurry up, won’t you?” Delphine hissed. “And stop reading that book while you're walking. It’s improper and embarrassing.” 

“Mhm,” I murmured, turning another yellowed page as I continued to walk slowly behind my sister. My eyes scanned the pages as though I were devouring a five course meal. 

“Did you hear me?” 

“Mhm…” 

“Beauty!” Delphine cried, spinning around and yanking the book from my hands. 

“Wait, no! Don’t lose my place,” I grabbed for the book, but Delphine dangled it above my reach. 

“Gaston will be in town any moment and I must make a good impression. Having a sister follow me around, reading of all things, is an affront to Gaston’s character. He would be offended,” Delphine rambled, staring off into the horizon with a dreamy expression. “I’ve only seen him once…but he’s so handsome.” 

I stared at Delphine and arched my eyebrow. “May I please have my book back now? I’ll go somewhere private to read so I do not embarrass you or this…Gaston.” 

“Fine,” Delphine agreed, shutting the book and handing it back to Beauty. 

“You lost my place!” 

“Leave me alone. Go somewhere Gaston will not see you. Reading is so unladylike,” Delphine sneered before straightening her shoulders, sucking in her waist, and gliding down the dirt path toward town. 

Sighing, I skimmed through the book until I found my place. I gently untied my blue ribbon and stuck it between the musty pages, then trailed along behind Delphine. 

When the we arrived in town, Delphine positioned herself by the well in the center of the village while I wandered off to sit under a tree next to the general store. It was the only decent shop to buy books from and the storekeeper, Mr. Coombs, was a friendly old man who always smelled freshly baked cookies. Besides Father, Mr. Coombs was the only man in town who encouraged my love of reading. 

The hot, heavy air was appeased by the soft breeze that wrapped around the trees. A few green leaves floated toward the ground, one landing in my hair as I leaned my head against the trunk. I laughed as the leaf slid out of my hair and landed on my shoulder, tickling my neck. 

“He’s here! He’s arrived!” A high-pitched voice squealed. 

I rolled my eyes, glancing toward the center of town where a large commotion was interrupting my otherwise enjoyable afternoon. 

A multitude of girls were flocking to the well, squealing and gushing over someone in the middle of the crowd. 

“You’re _soooo_ handsome!” 

“Are you still single?” 

“Do you like my hair?” 

“What does your ideal woman look like?”

Raising my book to cover my face, I settled comfortable and began reading. I attempted to block out the ridiculous flattery the girls were bestowing on this “Gaston”, whoever he was. 

“My ideal woman,” a deep, rich voice boomed. “Is one who is quiet and introspective. Beautiful and charming. Much like that young woman with the luscious, dark brown curls.” 

The chatter ceased and a few gasps arose from the girls. 

_Ah, peace and quiet._ I smiled, finally able to enjoy the novel before me. But as the girls began to murmur amongst themselves, and heavy, slow footsteps grew nearer, I raised my eyes from my book. 

“Hello.” 

I attempted to hide my annoyance as my gaze locked with the tall, muscular man before me. 

“My name is Gaston; I’m sure you’ve heard of me.” He crossed his arms, his biceps flexing as a smug grin decorated his sharp features. 

I shrugged, then raised my book to cover my face once more and continued reading. 

“You do not seem impressed…” Gaston chuckled. “Perhaps we should become more acquainted.” 

“Thank you, but no,” I responded dryly, still trying to read. “I have read about men like you and I have no desire to acquaint myself with them.” 

An uncomfortable silence settled over the group of girls as Gaston stiffened. He leaned down and snatched the book from me, glaring at the pages as though they were cursed. 

“Do you mean to imply that this piece of garbage is more important than I am?” 

I sprang to my feet, my brows furrowing and my eyes growing dark. “Please return my book.” 

“Only silly girls enjoy reading,” Gaston smirked, tossing the book over his shoulder. It landed in a muddy puddle and sank.

“No!” I cried, lunging toward it.

Gaston grabbed me by the waist and held me captive in his arms. “Oh hush, darling. I promise that I am _much_ more interesting than that old thing.” 

“Let go of me,” I begged, struggling to wriggle out of his arms. My pulse raced as his arms tightened. Fighting back a wave of panic, I took a deep breath and relaxed. Gaston’s arms loosened and before he could tighten them again, I slipped out and stumbled back a few paces out of reach. 

“Hey–” 

“Surely you would find one of us more worth your time than her,” a familiar, arrogant voice interrupted Gaston’s growl. 

Delphine approached Gaston, a flirtatious smile spreading across her full lips. “I do not believe you will accomplish much with that wench.” 

“Wench?” I choked, staring at my sister with a mixture of surprise and defensiveness. 

Delphine glanced over her shoulder, shooting me a venomous glare.

To avoid confrontation, I merely rolled my eyes, then sprinted over to the mud puddle and retrieved my novel. The yellowed pages were now soaked in a brown tint and the beautiful green, cloth cover was soggy. I gingerly blew on the pages in a vain attempt to dry them. _How could he? How could he trash the book like it was worthless?_ My brow furrowed and I could feel heat flushing up my neck into my face. _He cannot get away with this._ Spinning on my heel, I clamped the book to my chest and ran straight into the back of another young woman. 

“Watch out, you stupid girl,” she hissed, stepping away from me into the crowd that now surrounded Gaston and my perfect reading place. 

I sighed, my shoulders slumping in defeat. Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the ruined book before me. A few pages were torn and the words were dissolving into the mud. “I hate him,” I whispered under my breath. “And I shall never forgive him for this.” 

“Perhaps it can be salvaged,” a kind voice suggested. 

I turned around, a tear slipping down my cheek as Mr. Coombs reached for the book. Hastily brushing away the tear, I handed it to him. 

“Men like Gaston do not appreciate the wisdom one can glean from books. Pay no mind to him, he is a sorry creature.”

“But he ruined my book,” I whimpered, fisting my hands in my skirts. “Father gave it to me before he left.” 

Mr. Coombs smiled, his white mustache twisting upwards with his lips. “I have the same copy in my shop. You can finish the book and return it to me.” 

“Oh, I’ve already read it through twice,” I sighed. “Father does not often gift me with books anymore. But I cherish the ones he has given me as though they were children in need of love and attention. If I do not read them at least three times, they feel neglected and I feel like a horrible mother.” 

The smile on the man’s face grew until a few chuckles slipped out. “Beauty, you are truly a special girl.” 

I laughed, realizing how silly I must’ve sounded to the older man. “Thank you, Mr. Coombs. I know I have nothing to trade today, but perhaps you will let me borrow one of your books? I promise to return it the next time I come to town.” 

“Of course. As long as you stay far away from that Gaston.” 

“With pleasure,” I grinned, slipping my hand into the crook of Mr. Coombs’s elbow. “Shall we?” 

We walked toward his shop at a brisk pace. The crowd around Gaston had nearly doubled in size and I could just make out his deep voice bragging about his accomplishments. 

“Humility is a true jewel these days,” Mr. Coombs muttered as he opened the door for me. 

I nodded, stepping over the threshold into the shop. Breads, cookies, and candies decorated an entire wall of shelves and the sweet aroma was intoxicating. My stomach growled softly at the delicious treats. The last time Father had been able to afford such luxurious foods was when we still lived in the mansion. 

“Hungry?” 

“N-no…” I stammered, blushing as Mr. Coombs waved toward his baked goods. “May I pick out a book now?” 

“Of course, a new shipment arrived two weeks ago. Perhaps you can read a few of the books so I know what to tell other customers who are interested in them?” 

“Thank you,” I murmured, the anger over my ruined book slowly dissipated. Without sweet Mr. Coombs and his books, my appetite for new literature would be unquenchable. 

Mr. Coombs stopped and glanced over his shoulder at me, his eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “Thank me? Pfft, I should be thanking you, Beauty. Otherwise I would have to read all of these myself and a busy man like me does not have time for reading.” 

Hiding a smile behind my hand, I followed Mr. Coombs into a back room with several shelves full of books and a few wooden boxes scattered about on the floor. My eyes lit up and my hand fell away from my face. I no longer bothered to hide the grin accenting my dimples. The smell of leather covers and new, white pages filled the room with an aroma more delicious than any baked good. As Mr. Coombs began opening the wooden boxes, I perused the titles of the books on the shelves. 

“Any book catch your fancy?” 

“Mmm…they all do,” I admitted, selecting a book with a dark red leather cover. “This one is about a real queen…” My gaze wandered to the shelf to my right where a small novel lay on its side with several larger books resting their weight upon it. 

“What is that one?” 

Mr. Coombs lifted his head up from inside one of the boxes, then strode over to where I was pointing. 

“It has no title,” he muttered, carefully removing it from the shelf and glancing at it. “I don't know where this came from.” 

“Oh well. Did you find any good books in the boxes?” 

“You know I’m not much of a book expert, Beauty,” Mr. Coombs chuckled, making his way back over to the open boxes. “Select any that you want.” 

I set the red leather book on the floor next to me, then kneeled beside one of the boxes. There were dozens of books, beautifully aligned and with vividly colored covers, sitting in the wooden crates just waiting for me. I could almost hear them calling out for me to read them. 

“Mr. Coombs? You in here?” a frantic voice yelled from the front of the shop. “Mr. Coombs!” 

“I’m in the shipment room,” Mr. Coombs replied loudly, his brow wrinkling with worry as a young boy of six raced into the room. 

“F-fire!” the boy wheezed, clutching his chest. 

I rose to my feet, my pulse quickening, as the boy pointed to the front of the shop. 

“Someone set y-your store on f-fire!” 

Mr. Coombs gasped, ducking out of the room. “Impossible, who would do that?” 

I peeked out of the doorway, my eyes widening as flames licked up the front of the store. The paper in the windows was shriveling into black ash and the door was nearly consumed by orange flames. 

“Miss, we have to leave! The entire building will be gone in half an hour,” the little boy grabbed my skirts and tugged them toward the back of the store. “The back door should be fine!” 

“Wait!” I cried, turning back to the door. “All the books…there must be fifty! We have to save them.” 

“Beauty, we have to go,” Mr. Coombs appeared back in the room, soot plastered on his round face. “We cannot save anything.” 

I could hear the tremble in his voice, but I ignored the urgency. “Leave, Mr. Coombs. I will be right behind you, I promise.” 

“We have to leave,” the little boy wailed, jumping up and down. 

“Come with me child,” Mr. Coombs said. He took the boy’s hand and raced out of the building. 

Smoke filled my lungs, choking me as I gathered books into my arms. A thick, black cloud began to engulf the room and the crackling and hissing of the fire. _I have to get some of these books out…but I can’t hold them all._ With a determined grunt, I lifted half a dozen books and ran out of the room and out the back door. Mr. Coombs waved at me several yards away, relief washing over his face at the sight of me. 

“M-more…” I coughed, setting the books down beside him. “More books.” 

“Beauty, no! It’s too dangerous–” 

Refusing to listen to his desperate pleas, I stumbled back toward the burning shop. As I dashed back to the book room, my eyes stung and my throat ached. I began grabbing more books, but before I could pile them high enough to leave, my vision darkened. The ground beneath me began to sway and I collapsed on the wooden floor. The books I was holding fell on my chest, knocking the breath out of me.

_B-but…the books…_ As my breath grew shallow, the smoke and heat lulled me into a blissful unconsciousness. 


	3. An Act of "Love"

“She’s waking up,” a voice whispered. 

My eyes fluttered open at the sound of voices murmuring above me. I squinted as the harsh sunlight nearly blinded me. A shadow shaded my face and I found myself staring into the face of Gaston. _You have got to be joking._

I rolled over on my side, choking and coughing. The taste of smoke was burned into my mouth and lungs. My body ached and I longed to slip back into unconsciousness. As I looked around me, panic shot through my veins. 

“W-what–” my words were cut off by a series of gasping coughs as I struggled to maintain enough breath to talk. 

“Shhh, you should be resting,” Gaston urged, his voice surprisingly smooth and natural – a stark contrast to the rich, deep voice I heard earlier that afternoon. 

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I attempted to prop myself up on my elbows, but my arms were trembling too violently. My vision was blurry, as though I were staring through a layer of smoke. 

“May I?” Gaston asked, placing his hands under my back. 

Frustrated by my previous attempts, I nodded. A few nearby women stifled gasps and giggles as they watched, no doubt wishing to trade places with me. 

He helped me sit up against his shoulder, his hands wandering a little too far down near my waist. 

“Don’t,” I hissed, glaring at the man. 

He chuckled, but removed his hands from my back with a flirtatious wink. 

I took deep breaths, attempting to resist the coughs building up in my lungs. My head pounded and the crackling of the fire echoed in my ears. _I was so foolish…_

“There’s no…retrieve the body…fire has died down…” 

“W-what body?” I murmured, my voice shaking and my eyes widening as the words carried through the wind and reached my ears. 

“We should get you inside,” an older, plump lady kneeling beside me replied matter-of-factly. 

“Wait. Did someone die?” 

The older lady exchanged a glance with Gaston, then shook her head. “He ran in after you. But the smoke confused him and he…” 

“He did not make it out,” Gaston finished her sentence. 

“Who?” I whispered, a wave of nausea crashing over me. 

“Mr. Coombs.” 

Silence. 

_No._

“Beauty?” 

_This is not real._

“Beauty?” 

_This cannot be real._

“I’m sorry,” Gaston purred, resting his head against mine. “But he was old and at least you’re safe–” 

“No…” I managed to force the word from my lips. Tears flooded my eyes, leaking down my cheeks. A sob mixed with a cough propelled my entire body forward and I fell to the ground. 

“Take a deep breath,” Gaston said, his voice commanding and sharp as he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back into a sitting position. 

“No…no…no…” I scooted away from him and hugged my knees to my chest. Burying my head in my skirts, I rocked back and forth on the grass. _This cannot be happening. It’s all my fault. I killed him…I killed Mr. Coombs._

“I’ll find someone to fetch you a drink,” Gaston muttered. His heavy footsteps departed from me, much to my relief. 

“Beauty, you look an absolute mess,” Delphine’s shrill voice pierced through the air. “Come now, we need to fix you up quickly or we’re going to be late to our lunch at Lady Gregory’s house.” 

My head remained tucked away in my skirts, the scratchy material smearing my tears across my entire face. “Go on without me.” 

“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” Delphine growled, grabbing my shoulder and yanking me to my feet. 

“Agh!” I cried out in pain as she wrenched my shoulder upwards. 

“Hush, you’re attracting attention,” my sister muttered, releasing my shoulder. 

I bit my lip as a sharp pain ebbed through my arm and I grew dizzy for a moment. When my head cleared, I noticed a small crowd of people staring at me. 

Delphine shifted uncomfortably. “Let’s go.” 

“Move!” a voice snapped. 

The crowd cleared and Gaston strode toward me, a mug of some amber liquid sloshing in his giant hands. 

“Drink it,” he ordered, shoving the mug in my hands with a suggestive smirk. “It will improve your mood and clear the smoke from your throat.” 

“Gaston, you’re sooo kind,” Delphine gushed, sidestepping in front of me and clutching his bicep. Her eyelashes batted faster than the compliments poured from her lips. And Gaston was soaking it up, his chest puffing out and his smirk widening. 

While Delphine distracted the ugly giant of a man, I dumped the contents of the mug onto the ground and backed up until I dissolved into the crowd. As I turned around, a huge crash shook the ground just yards away from me. 

Mr. Coomb’s shop collapsed in on itself. A billow of thick, black smoke and flashes of hot, orange flames enclosed the wooden structure. 

“No…” Tears sprang to my eyes once more as I pictured my dear friend trapped inside a slice of hell. 

People around me began murmuring amongst themselves as we watched the building crumble. 

“I heard someone say that the fire was intentional.” 

“Do they know who would do that?” 

 

“I thought everyone loved Mr. Coombs!” 

“How _did_ the fire start?” I whispered under my breath, my brow furrowing as I closed my eyes and retraced the moments before the fire. 

_I set the red leather book on the floor next to me, then kneeled beside one of the boxes. There were dozens of books, beautifully aligned and with vividly colored covers, sitting in the wooden crates just waiting for me. I could almost hear them calling out for me to read them._

_“Mr. Coombs? You in here?” a frantic voice yelled from the front of the shop. “Mr. Coombs!”_

_“I’m in the new shipment room,” Mr. Coombs responded, his brow wrinkling with worry as a young boy of six raced into the room._

_“F-fire!” the boy wheezed, clutching his chest._

_I rose to my feet as the boy pointed to the front of the shop._

_“Someone set y-your store on f-fire!”_

 

_The boy who warned us about the fire…where is he?_ I opened my eyes and began wandering through the crowd, attempting to locate the young child. 

Men, women, and children flocked near the building as I struggled to move against the flow of the wave of people. _Where could he have gone?_

“Excuse me, excuse me…pardon me, I’m so sorry, excuse me,” I stammered to the people I bumped into. 

“Watch where you’re goin’!” A gruff voice said behind me. 

As I turned around to apologize, someone ran into me and shoved me to my knees. Grimacing, I rubbed my sore shoulder. Before I could stand back up, a small whimper caught my attention. Peering through around the pants and skirts of the crowd, I inhaled sharply. The little boy who had warned Mr. Coombs about the fire was sitting on the ground, huddled in a small ball, crying. 

Avoiding as many shoes as I could, I crawled over to him and gently rested my hand on his shoulder. 

He jerked back, staring up at me with tearful large blue eyes. “I’I’m sorry, I-I’m so sorry.” 

“Shh,” I murmured, pulling the young child into my arms. He relaxed in my embrace, his sniffles quieting and his tears drying. “Why are you crying, darling?” 

He pulled back slightly, facing me. His tiny bottom lip quivered. “T-the f-fire…it…” 

“Don’t fret,” I forced a smile, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It was not your fault. You warned us and that was extraordinarily brave of you.” 

Instead of relief washing over him, his face scrunched up. “He-he made me do it.” 

“Made you do what…?” 

“S-set t-the fire.” 

“Why would someone want you to set a fire?” I rubbed his arms as he wiped his nose on his shirt. 

“T-to rescue y-you. T-to be your hero.” 

“Who?” I demanded, struggling to keep my voice even. 

“H-him,” the little boy pointed his chubby finger up at a tall figure behind me. 

I angled my neck up to see the face of a familiar person with a dark look on his face – Gaston. _No…_

“Easton, I think you talk too much,” Gaston said through a clenched jaw. 

The little boy cowered behind me, wrapping himself in my skirts. I pushed myself onto my feet, allowing Easton to hide behind me as I locked gazes with the demon before me. 

“You killed him,” I hissed, heat rising up my neck into my face. “You _killed_ him! How could you? Why?” 

“Beauty, do you really believe this bastard orphan’s tale?” Gaston laughed, setting his hands on his hips and rolling his eyes. “He clearly has no idea what happened. Sometimes fires just…occur.” 

“Yes. They do. Especially when you _force_ someone to set them for you. And a _child_ of all people!” My voice began to raise and my polite demeanor faded as rage coursed through me. “You killed Mr. Coombs! You destroyed hundreds of books! You’re a _monster_ –” 

Gaston slapped his hands over my mouth, his nostrils flaring. “You’re safe. That is all that matters.” 

“Mpmhadkhgyudjklad!” 

“Silence. I saved you and you owe me your life.” 

“Gjdukadjfnalskdfpad!” I retorted, pulling at his hands with my small fingers and kicking his shins with my heel, but to no avail. The vein in my neck throbbed as I struggled to free myself from his iron grip. 

“Calm down or I will not let go.” 

“Fakjdhfiuahdkfjn!” 

“I said, _calm down_.” Gaston’s voice grew dangerously low. “Or I will have no choice but to make you.” 

I pressed my lips together, fear tingling up my spine. My heart skipped a beat as he yanked me to his side. Easton was left bare in front of Gaston for a second, then he disappeared into the crowd, sobbing. _He traumatized Easton…_

“We need to go somewhere quieter. And alone.” 

My eyes widened and I screamed into his hands. Gaston pinched my cheeks, temporarily silencing me. 

“What did I say about calming down?” he asked, his hot breath tickling my ear. 

I froze. I finally understood what the characters in books meant when they would say their blood ran cold. My limbs felt heavy and leaden as Gaston forced me to walk forward. The crowd of people cleared a path as soon as they noticed him. _Why do they ignore me? Can they not see me?_

“You look like a scared mouse, Beauty. Your name does not suit you when you’re afraid.” Gaston poked me in the back. “Look happy. Do you know how many women would love to catch my attention?” 

_Oh, and do you do this with every woman? Treat her like an animal and set her friends on fire?_ I spat into Gaston’s hand. 

He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Keep walking.” 

He led me into the center of town and sat me on the ledge of the well. With a warning glance, he removed his hands and positioned himself in front of me so I could not hope to escape. 

I fought back the fear twisting in my gut and glared. 

“I want you to be my wife, Beauty.”

I laughed, arching my eyebrows in amusement. 

“You are beautiful and feisty, although we would need to address what is proper for my wife to do. Reading is not allowed,” Gaston warned. “But I believe we would make a lovely couple.” 

“A-are you…serious?” I choked incredulously, unsure if I should burst into laughter or slap the smug look off his face. 

“Quite.” 

“You set my friend’s shop _on fire_ , consequently killing him. I nearly died. And you want me to believe you care for me? I will never marry you, Gaston.” 

“Do not say no so quickly, love.” Gaston shook his head, smirking. “I can not only provide you with every comfort of this world, but I can support your entire family.” 

I stared at him, gaping and speechless. _He is actually serious…_

“I would not mind…socializing with your sister, Delphine. Two beautiful women for the marriage of one.” He winked, then reached for my hand. 

I tried to pull away, but lost my balance and fell into Gaston’s arms. 

“Have you fallen for me, Beauty?” he chuckled, holding me tightly. 

“Put me down.” 

“If you insist,” he pressed his slimy lips to my forehead, then set me on the ground. 

“Beauty!” 

I wilted in relief as Delphine raced toward me. For the first time in my life, I was thrilled to see her yelling at me. 

“Beauty, Harrison is in town. He has news of father,” Delphine gasped for air, attempting to maintain her sucked in stomach while breathing. “Gaston.” 

Gaston dipped his head in recognition as my older brother jogged out from behind a shop. 

“Beauty, father is home.” 

“He is?” I squealed, clasping my hands against my chest and trotting over to Harrison. “This is wonderful news! When did he get back? How was his trip?” 

Instead of answering my questions, Harrison shook his head. “Father…is not well. Beauty, we need to return home immediately.” 


	4. Father's Beastly Secret

“Father, I’ve brought Beauty and Delphine home,” Harrison hollered as he swung open the rickety door into our house. 

I tiptoed behind Delphine and Harrison as they strode into the small abode. The kitchen was lit with a single candle, casting quivering shadows over the walls. 

“Father?” Delphine addressed the man at the table as she crossed her arms. “Why did you call us back from the village? If it is not an emergency, I shall be quite–” 

“I am sure Father had good reason,” I interrupted, walking over to Father and resting my small hand on his curved shoulder. 

Father turned his head up and smiled at me, but his face was pale and the smile disappeared almost instantly. 

“There was…an incident on my merchant trip,” Father murmured, bowing his head and sighing.

I could feel his shoulders shaking to hold back emotion under my hand. I patted his shoulder and pulled a wooden stool from the table out, taking a seat next to him. 

“An incident? Again?” Harrison rolled his eyes. “That’s the second time. What happened? Did you lose the few coins we had?”

“I…” Father faltered, taking a deep breath. “Yes. There was a storm and–”

“You did not bring me a silk dress?” Delphine screeched, her eyes widening. “I was counting on that dress, Father! There was rumor in the village that Gaston will be hosting a ball and I simply _must_ be in attendance!” 

“A dress?” I hissed, locking gazes with my sister. “You are concerned with a dress for a foolish ball for a monstrous man when there are genuine problems for us?” 

Delphine’s nostrils flared and regret for my outburst twisted in my gut. “You are not aware of our real struggles, sister. Once Father is dead, we will need to be taken care of. Perhaps you are content with living as an old maid for the rest of your days, but _I_ refuse to accept that fate.” 

“Oh silence, both of you!” Harrison growled, his deep voice resounding in the tiny room. 

“I am truly sorry, my children,” Father sighed, hiding his face in his hands. “I have failed you.” 

“No, Father,” I whispered, pressing my head against his shoulder comfortingly. “You have never failed me.” 

Father’s shoulder shook as he fought to hold back a sob rising in his chest. 

Fear spiked my pulse. Father never cried in front of us children. Ever. He did not cry in front of us when we lost our money the first time. He did not cry even when Mother died. 

After muttering a spew of unfeminine words under her breath, Delphine stalked out of the kitchen to her room. Maricelle’s shrill cries no doubt signaled that the two girls were complaining about their situation. 

My heart sank as Harrison shook his head and disappeared down the hall. 

“It was not your fault, Father. You cannot take charge of the weather. Do not listen to them! They do not care about you like they should.” 

“Oh, Belle…” Father choked, raising his head to meet my concerned gaze with his loving blue eyes. 

“Would you like me to stay up with you, Father?” 

“No…go on to bed, my love. I will be fine.” 

I hesitated, then nodded. “Goodnight, Father.” 

“Goodnight, Belle.” 

I rose from the stool and wrung my hands in my skirts as I shuffled down the dark hall. _Mr. Coombs…the fire…now this? Everyone I love ends up hurting…or dead…_ Tears sprang to my eyes and I sniffled, creaking open the door to my room ever so gently so the knob would not fall off. A heavy weight settled onto my spirit as I changed into my nightgown. 

Numbly crawling under my blankets, I buried my head into the thin pillow, allowing my tears to flow. 

I inhaled sharply as a soft knock sounded against my door. 

“Beauty…” Father’s voice cracked as he called out to me. 

I grabbed the edge of my blanket and wiped away my tears. 

“Come in, Father.” 

Father opened the door, his tall form appearing small and frail as he entered my cozy room. He carried a candle to my dresser, then set it down. 

“Father…what is wrong?” 

“May I sit?” He motioned to a chest next to my bed. 

“Of course.” 

He nodded, taking a seat on the old wooden chest. His brow furrowed as I moved to the edge of the bed to face him. “Beauty, why are you crying?” 

“I am not crying,” I whispered, fighting the urge to throw myself into his arms and beg him to hug me until the pain in my chest ceased. I had to remain strong. For him. 

“No. But you were. Are you really that worried about our situation? I will go on another trip–” 

“Never!” I blurted out. “Never leave me again, Father. We will find a way to earn money here. But do not leave us again. Do not leave me. I cannot go through another today and…” My voice trailed off as Father’s eyes widened. 

“What happened today?” 

_Belle, you fool! How could you let it slip? Father has enough to worry about without you bringing up Mr. Coombs!_ I sighed, lowering my eyes. 

“Belle.” 

Pain swelled in my chest as I met Father’s inquisitive look. “Mr. Coombs is dead.” 

Father stared, his body rigid. “Why…why did you not tell me?” 

“You have lost everything, why trouble you with more?” 

Rising from his place on the chest, he kneeled in front of me and gripped both of my pale hands in his large, dark ones. He searched my gaze as he pressed his lips to the back of my hands. 

“I am your Father. Never think that you are troubling me when you talk to me. You can always be honest with me.” 

I frowned as Father broke eye contact when he mentioned honesty. “Father.” 

“I am serious, daughter.” 

I slipped off my straw tick and kneeled beside him. “Father…what are you not telling me?” 

Surprise registered on his withered face before a small smile touched his lips. “I can never hide anything from you.” 

Silence. 

“Father?” 

“Not tonight. Sleep well. Goodnight.” He rose to his feet, bowed slightly, then turned to the door. He paused for a moment, looking over his shoulder at me with a pensive expression. “You are very precious to me, Belle.” 

I smiled, pushing myself back onto my feet. Fetching the candle on my dresser, I traipsed to the door and handed Father the flickering light. 

“Goodnight, Father.” 

The door shut behind him, but the candle light lingered outside my door for several minutes before I heard Father sigh and walk slowly down the hall. 

I stared at the door, listening to Father’s heavy footsteps. Instead of them entering his room next to mine and stopping, his steps continued as though he were pacing. Scurrying toward my dresser, I pressed my ear against the wall and strained to hear what he was doing. 

His dresser rattled open, then swooshed shut as if a large piece of fabric were being extracted from the drawer. 

_The only fabric that makes a sound like that is Father’s cloak…_ A dull thunk against the wood floor and a scuff made my blood ran cold. _The only object that makes that sound is Father’s walking staff._

I ran over to my door and cracked it open to watch. Father’s door opened and the light from the candle cast a shadow against the wall – Father’s cloak lay around his shoulders and his staff was gripped in his hands. 

“Such a mess. Such a mess I’ve made.” Father’s quiet mutterings barely reached my ears as he shut his door and plodded into the kitchen. 

Racing to my dresser, I threw my faded blue dress on over my nightgown, slipped on my worn shoes, and scampered into the hallway. I held my breath as I made my way down the hall, careful to avoid the loose floorboards. A moment after I peeked around the wall into the kitchen, the front door opened and Father disappeared into the thick blanket of night. 

_What in the world…?_

The front door opened and Harrison sauntered in, tossing his cloak onto the kitchen table. He paused as he noticed me staring at the door. “Beauty? What are you doing out here?” 

“Where is Father?” 

“Why should I know?” 

“He left through that door moments ago, Harrison. Surely you saw him!” I insisted, crossing my arms. 

Harrison shrugged. “I did not see him. Who cares anyway? He’s probably going to try and fix whatever mess he got himself into. Go back to bed. You can ask him in the morning.” 

“What if he does not come back?” I asked, voicing my fears. 

“Why would he leave?” Harrison laughed. “You must be exhausted. Just go to sleep.” 

I bit my bottom lip, sighing as Harrison strode over to the fireplace in the corner of the room and began warming himself. There was no way I would allow Father to venture into the night alone. When Harrison turned his back toward me, I darted toward the front door and crossed the threshold. 

“Beauty! Do not go outside at night, especially alone. Beauty! Come back in here,” Harrison hollered as I bolted away from the house, not daring to slow down lest Harrison come after me. 

“Father! Father, where are you?” I wailed into the darkness, struggling to continue my fast pace. My legs began to ache and my abdomen cramped. I collapsed to my knees, gasping for air. 

“God, forgive my sins. Forgive me. Forgive my sins…” a quiet voice repeated. 

I froze, listening as the thud of a staff against the dirt path caught my attention. _Father._ I longed to cry out to him, but I held my tongue. Instead, I stood up and brushed off dirt and leaves from my skirts. 

Father hobbled down the path which, if followed long enough, took one to Tatum Sea. 

_Why would he be returning to the sea if he just arrived?_ A knot formed in the pit of my stomach and a heavy feeling of dread weakened me. Something was wrong. Something far beyond Father losing what little money he had. Determined to discover his secret, I trailed behind him: close enough to hear his cries to God for forgiveness, yet far enough away to avoid detection. 

He continued down the path for nearly a mile before making a sharp right turn into the forest. 

I stumbled after him, fighting the chill of the night as a frigid breeze danced through the trees. As Father continued deeper into the forest, I became convinced he was lost…or mad. There was no path, not even the faintest sign that any living thing had ever traversed through the thick brush and tangled undergrowth. 

After nearly an hour of wandering through the woods, Father’s murmurings silenced, replaced with a heavy sigh. 

I ducked behind a tree, cringing as a twig snapped underneath my heel. 

“Hello?” Father’s voice trembled. 

I held my breath, closed my eyes, and sent up silent prayers that Father would continue his journey. 

“Is it you?” 

My eyes flew open. _He’s meeting someone out here?_

“I have returned, just as I promised. Now you must leave my family alone.” 

_Someone has threatened our family?_ A cold sweat broke out on my brow as I heard Father sigh once more, then plod on. Peeking out from behind the tree, I watched as he approached a rock covered in thick, dark vines. 

With careful steps, I slipped out from behind the tree and tiptoed after Father. As he turned into a clearing, my jaw dropped. An ancient stone castle, larger than any building I had ever seen or dreamed of, sat comfortable in the giant clearing. A stone wall surrounded the castle, but most of it was crumbling and easy to pass over. 

While I gaped in awe, Father began ascending the mossy stone steps to the rusty gate. I snapped out of my trance at the sound of Father opening one side of the metal gate and shutting it behind him. 

“Father!” I called, unable to keep silent. 

He froze, his back still turned toward me. 

“Father, what are you doing?” I cried, stumbling toward him. I climbed up the steps, tripping and slipping the entire way up. I grabbed at the gate, but Father spun around and held it shut. 

“Beauty, what are you doing here?” Father snapped, fear flashing in his eyes. “You have to leave, _now_.” 

Clinging to the gate, I searched his gaze. “Why are you here?” 

“Return home, daughter.” 

“Why will you not confide in me?” I whispered, my eyes filling with tears. “What could be so horrible that you cannot tell me?” 

Father’s eyes softened. He reached through the gate and caressed my rosy cheek. “I love you.” 

In that moment, my heart stopped. “You’re…you’re never coming home…” 

Shaking his head, Father allowed a sad smile to appear on his worn face. “Will you do one last thing for me, Beauty?” 

“Don’t say it like that–” 

“Beauty.” Father retracted his hand from outside the gate and stared at me solemnly. 

“Yes.” 

“Never come back here. Leave. Never return. Do you hear me?” 

I fought back a wave of nausea as a sharp pain twisted in my gut. _Never see Father again? How could this be happening?_

“Promise me.” 

“I–” I clenched my hand into a fist and bit down to avoid a sob rising in the back of my throat. 

A fierce roar bellowed through the clearing, shaking the gate I clung to. 

Father turned around slowly, his body shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. “Beauty. Run.” 


	5. Beauty Meets The Beast

“So the thief has honor?” A deep, growling voice echoed near the top of a series of steps leading up to the massive castle. 

_The thief? What did Father steal?_

The ground beneath my feet shuddered as the owner of the voice made his way down the steps with slow, calculating walk. Panic bubbled up inside me and I reached through the gate to grab Father’s cloak. 

“Father, please! Run away from here,” I begged, my voice hoarse with fear. “Father!” 

Father ignored me, stepping forward, one foot in front of the other as though he had to consciously tell his feet to move. “You threatened my family.” 

“You stole from me.” 

“It was just a rose,” Father defended, continuing his slow pace toward the approaching voice. 

_A rose…?_ My face drained of color and I gripped the cold metal gate to steady myself. _Father stole a rose from this…this thing…. And now this thing is taking him? Forever?_

“Father…not _my_ rose?” 

Father glanced over his shoulder, then looked away. 

“Who said that?” the voice demanded, a threatening edge to its tone. 

“No one,” Father piped up. “There is no one here but me.” 

“That was the voice of a girl,” the voice continued as the steps grew nearer toward me and Father. 

“No, you must be hearing things…” Father insisted. 

“Hrump.” 

“What…what are you going to do to me?” 

“You shall be my prisoner. Forever.” 

Father swallowed hard. “So long…for a rose?” 

“I–” I cleared my throat, and pushed open the rusty gate. “It’s my fault. I asked him for the rose.” 

The heavy steps of the creature paused. Father turned to look at me, his face pale and tense. 

“Beauty, please. Leave,” he choked, his desperate gaze meeting mine. 

“Father, it’s my fault. I cannot let you suffer for my request,” I whispered, lowering my gaze. I slipped in the gate, then shut it behind me. Fisting my hands in my skirts, I attempted to find some ounce of courage as the footsteps started up again – growing closer and closer. 

“So. You are the mastermind behind this evil plot to steal from me?” 

Keeping my head down, I managed to nod. 

“S-she is a m-mere child! S-she does not k-know of w-what she speaks,” Father stammered. 

“Silence!” The voice boomed. 

Father stumbled backwards a few steps, quivering as the steps stopped feet away from him. 

Taking a deep breath, I slowly tilted my head up to see the thing that Father feared. As I laid eyes on it, my blood ran cold and time appeared to stand still. A dark figure, nearly four times the size of Father, stood before me on two thick, furry legs – larger than that of a wild bear. The creature’s head was large, with round green eyes that glinted angrily at me. My eyes burned as I realized they were wide and most likely revealing just how frightened I was. Blinking rapidly, I took a half-step back. _What…what did I just get myself into?_

“You’re…you’re a beast…” I croaked, instinctively wrapping my arms around my stomach and hugging myself. 

The beast let out a throaty laugh, his eyes never leaving mine. “What an observant wench.” 

“L-leave her alone!” Father demanded, his voice growing stronger as he closed the distance between us and positioned himself in front of me. 

“Very well. Come with me to the dungeon,” the beast shrugged, turning on his heel and lumbering back up the stairs. 

Father began following him, glancing at me briefly and mouthing “Leave” before he began climbing the stairs. 

_No…no! I cannot lose him forever. Not when it’s my fault…it’s my fault. If I don’t do something…I’ll never see him again. I have to see him again._

“Stop!” I cried out, my voice piercing through the night. 

The beast froze and I could have sworn he jumped a little at my sharp tone. He swirled around, his large eyes fixated on mine. _His eyes are beautiful…_

“What?” 

“Let my father go and take me in his place,” I suggested, surprised by how calm my voice sounded since my insides were churning like butter. 

“Beauty, don’t–” 

“Hush, old man,” the Beast growled, his voice dangerously low. “Why, pray tell, would I want to take you instead?” 

I gulped, my moment of courage slipping away. “I-I’m younger. I could…clean your mansion and prepare meals…and look after you. I could be of more use than my father.” 

“Beauty, no! You can’t–” 

“I said silence,” the beast roared, his voice shaking the ground. The beast glanced over his massive shoulder at Father, who stood silent and cowering beside him. 

“And if this arrangement is to last forever, I would survive much longer than Father. I would be of more service to you,” I added hastily, my eyes darting between the beast and Father. _Please take me instead.…please take me instead…please._

“You are so willing to throw your life away,” the beast muttered, his eyes lighting up with curiosity. “Have you no suitor? A husband? A family?” 

“Would it make a difference?” I narrowed my eyes. _Why is he suddenly taking an interest in my personal life? Does he even have emotions and feelings like normal humans?_

“It might.” 

“I do not. And I have no wish for a husband or a family.” 

The beast lifted a giant paw and scratched the back of his neck. “You can take your father’s place and I will set him free.” 

A mixture of relief and regret flooded through me, weakening my knees. I gritted my teeth to fight off a wave of dizziness. 

“No…no!” Father pleaded with the beast. “She is but a child! You must not listen to her foolishness.” 

Ignoring his pleas, the beast grabbed the back of Father’s cloak and drug him to the gate. I gasped as he shoved Father outside the wall and slammed the gate closed behind him. My throat tightened as I stared through the bars that would hold me captive for eternity. The bars that would separate me from Father forever. Part of me wondered if I had made a huge mistake in sacrificing myself over Father. 

“Beauty! Don’t go! Don’t go with him!” Father sobbed, his hands reaching through the gate to grasp mine. 

I ran to him, kneeling on the other side of the gate. Kissing his hands, I struggled to put on a brave smile. “Your other children need you, Father. You must return to your family. I love you.” 

“You _are_ my family, Belle.” 

“Come,” the beast ordered, stamping his foot impatiently. “I do not have time to waste for this sentimental shit.” 

“You are stealing my daughter from me,” Father countered, his tone dark. “Forever.” 

The beast waved his paw nonchalantly and rolled his eyed. “You have others, I’m sure. One less mouth to feed, one less body to clothe. You should be thanking me for my generosity.” 

“Your generosity?” Father sputtered, pulling his hands out of mine and standing up outside the gate. “What generosity? Breaking a family apart?” 

“I could just kill her and say we’re even,” the beast replied, eliciting a gasp from my lips. 

I pressed my body against the gate, cherishing the frigid bars even as a chill ran down my spine – although I was unsure if it was from the cold or the thought of dying at the hands of a monstrous beast. 

“No…” Father stressed, but his voice lacked confidence. “Please…do not harm her.” 

“Then leave. And if you ever return, I shall gut your daughter in front of you,” the beast snarled, his whiskers twitching in annoyance. 

_Oh God, what have I gotten myself in to?_ I squeezed my eyes shut, willing it all to go away. _I’m having a nightmare. That’s all. There’s no such things as giant talking beasts that threaten to kill young women. Father did not steal a rose from this beast. I’m in my bed and I need to wake up and begin breakfast._

“Fine.” 

My eyes flew open and my heart sank. I was not dreaming. I was not in my bed. And I had most certainly just agreed to live with a murderous giant beast. 

“I shall leave…but do not hurt her,” Father whispered, laying his hand on my skinny shoulder. 

“I promise. Now leave, before I throw you to the wolves.” 

At the mention of the vicious dogs, Father shuddered and backed away from the gate. He met my gaze and his expression softened. Tears glistened in his eyes and he did not bother to hide them as he continued to take steps backward into the thick forest. 

I watched him, refusing to blink as he disappeared into the darkness. Wrestling back a sob rising in my throat, I rose to my feet and stared up at the beast. “Y-you won’t kill me, right?” 

A look of surprise flickered across the creature’s face, but it was quickly masked by a fierce glare. “Follow me. Now. And keep up. I hate slow walkers.” 

Before I could say anything, he turned his back to me and started striding up the stairs to the mansion’s entrance. I trotted along behind him, endeavoring to keep up with his huge steps while maintaining a somewhat ladylike grace. 

As I stepped on a stair just feet from the large wooden doors, my heel caught in a vine and I was thrown forward. I shut my eyes and held my hands out to break the fall – but it never came. Instead, a strong arm wrapped around my waist and helped me up to my feet. 

“Are you alright?” the beast asked, his eyes searching mine. 

_Is…is he…worried about me?_ My eyes widened and my mouth went dry. “Um…what?” 

The moment passed and the beast frowned, then looked away. “Watch your step next time. I knew a girl like you would be clumsy.” 

“I’m not normally clumsy!” I retorted indignantly. “It’s not my fault you keep your mansion in ruins.” 

“I don’t normally have guests!” 

“That does not give you an excuse to keep your home looking like it’s abandoned,” I chided, placing my hands on my hips and pursing my lips. 

“It doesn’t bother me,” he muttered under his breath, crossing his hairy arms and sulking. 

“I’m shocked you haven’t fallen and hurt yourself with all these vines and crumbling cobblestones.” 

“Well I haven’t,” he shot back, glaring at me. 

“Really? Not ever?” 

“Never!” 

I returned his glare. We stood, glaring at each other for half a minute before he sniffed, stuck his black nose in the air, then stepped up on the next stair. As soon as his giant paw settled on the stone, it disintegrated beneath him. He fell forward, his snout landing on a sharp rock and an involuntary yelp sounded from between his lips. 

I choked back a laugh, slapping a hand over my mouth. Amusement sparkled in my dark brown eyes at his form sprawled out across the stairs. 

He whimpered, then coughed to cover up his pain. Pushing himself back to his feet, he stared straight ahead at the mansion doors and huffed. “Shit.” 

A slow smile spread across my face as I followed him up to the dark wooden doors. _He’s not as frightening as he pretends to be. I do not think I’m afraid…not anymore._

The beast opened the door and awkwardly held it open as he rubbed his nose with one of his paws. “Um…you can come in…I guess.” 

I nodded, hiding my smile by turning my face away as I tread over the threshold into a dark entry hall. A plush carpet cushioned my feet as I took a few hesitant steps forward, then paused as the beast shut the door behind us. 

“I’ll light a candle,” he grumbled, fiddling around with something behind me. 

“Thank you.” 

“Why are you thanking me?” 

“Oh…for…not killing me?” I offered, knowing I did not sound convincing in the least. 

“Oh. Also, when I light the candle, you have to promise me something.” 

I arched my eyebrow at his request. “What is it?” 

“You have to promise you won’t admonish me about how run-down my mansion is. It doesn’t look any better inside than outside,” he admitted, scuffing his paw against the carpet. 

“I–” 

“But I haven’t had a maid for years,” he added in defense, his voice whining like that of a small child pretending he wasn’t at fault and trying to blame someone else. 

I bit my lip to fight back another smile, then turned away from him. “I promise.” 

“Good.” 

The dim light of a candle illuminated the entryway and reflected off gold decorations on mahogany furniture and silver mirrors. I gaped, taking in the rich decor surrounding me. _This looks like something out of one of Mr. Coomb’s novels…_

“Come on, I’ll lead you to your cell.” 

“M-my cell?” I questioned, snapping out of my daze. 

The beast pushed past me without a word. To avoid angering him or being stuck in complete darkness, I scampered after him. He led me down a narrow stone staircase to a dank dungeon. Moisture glistened on the moss-covered walls. 

I wrinkled my nose. _Yuck._

“In here,” the beast called, standing by an thick wooden door. 

Stepping hesitantly toward him, I peeked into the cell and stifled a groan. The floor was covered in moss or mold, I couldn’t discern which. A flat straw tick lay in one corner of the tiny room and a small window with metal bars across it lay situated just above the tick. 

“Here.” The beast shoved the candle into my hands and nodded his head toward the cell. 

I entered it, cringing as the door slammed shut behind me and a latch fell into place. A heavy sighed eased its way out of my chest. _It could be worse. It could always be worse._ I set the candle beside the straw tick and sat down on it. A sharp object poked me and I grimaced, readjusting on the tick until the poking let up. After blowing out the candle, I laid down on the tick and closed my eyes. Exhaustion swept over me and, despite the horrid smell coming from the floor, I fell into a blissfully numbing slumber. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A knock rapped against the wooden door of my dungeon cell, awakening me from a deep slumber. I groaned, groggily opening my eyes. I glanced up at the barred window above my head and frowned. The moon was still high in the sky. 

“Are you awake?” the deep voice asked. 

“Mmph,” I responded, trying to find the energy to form a complete word. My eyes were heavy with sleep despite the uncomfortable straw tick beneath me. 

“I have…been informed that keeping a young woman in the dungeon is not, uh, polite.” 

I pressed my hand against my head to drive away the dull throb of a beginning migraine. _Whoa, really? I had no idea._

“I had Mrs. Potts make up a proper bedroom for you. That is, if you, um, would want to stay in a proper bedroom.” 

_Mrs. Potts? I thought he lived here alone…is he married? _Curiosity overcame my sleepiness and I sat up, picking a piece of moldy straw out of my dress.__

____

“Yes please. Oh, you can open the door. I’m fully dressed,” I rambled, yawning as I heard the latch on the door lift. 

____

“You can follow me,” the beast ducked his head. He pushed the cell door wide open and motioned with his paw for me to follow. 

____

I floundered off the straw tick and trailed after the beast. His stride was noticeably shorter, as though he were intentionally making himself take tinier steps. _Could he be trying to help me?_ The throbbing headache returned, forcing my thoughts away from the ironic thought of a considerate beast. 

____

He led me up the dungeon steps onto the main floor, then up a magnificent staircase which I would have admired if I had not been so tired. After yet another flight of stairs, my legs were beginning to tingle and ache with exhaustion. 

____

“It’s in this hall,” he assured me, leading the way down a long hallway. He stopped in front of an ornately decorated door and turned the knob. 

____

I struggled to keep my eyes open as he gently nudged me into the room. Stumbling toward the bed, I crawled onto it and sank into the softest mattress I had ever slept on. 

____

“Mmmm…” I murmured, my eyes shutting. 

____

“Have you never slept on a feather tick before?” the beast asked, disbelief evident in his voice. 

____

“No,” I exhaled, snuggling into one of the pillows. As the beast spread a thick down comforter over me, I was barely able to mumble a ‘thank you’ before sleep once again overtook me. 

____


	6. Friends in Captivity

My hands wrapped around the soft silk drapes that hung around a tall window. A few moth-eaten holes were speckled across the faded yellow, but it was beautiful just the same. With several hard yanks, I managed to open the drapes. A gentle pink light flooded the room, casting a warm glow all around me. 

The glass panes were dirty and smudged, so I rubbed my sleeve against them to create a clean pane for me to look through. Below my room was a garden – the only thing about the mansion that appeared to be kept up. Roses of all colors, shapes, and sizes bloomed in magnificent flowerbeds, a stark contrast to the gray stones of the mansion walls. I pressed my forehead against the glass to get a better view. The first rays of golden sunlight struck the rose garden with a breathtaking elegance. 

_Father would love this…_ My throat tightened and I turned away from the window, squeezing my eyes shut to fight back tears. “I’m never going to see him again,” I whispered, the words seeming to echo around the elaborate bedchamber. Despite the beauty surrounding me, my chest began to heave and my shoulders began to shake. 

I raced toward the bed and threw myself down on it, muffling a sob in the feather pillow. _I never should have asked Father for that rose._

“Is she crying?” 

“Poor thing…maybe we should leave her alone.” 

“Or we could pretend we didn’t hear her.” 

My sobs quieted as two distinct voices whispered outside my door. Sniffling, I wiped the tears off my cheeks and sat up on the bed. 

“Oh, I think she stopped. Maybe we should–” 

“Knock, knock!” a sing-song voice called through my bedroom door. 

_That does not sound like the beast that trapped me here…Perhaps there are others held captive as well!_ My eyes widened at the thought and I stood up off the bed, straightening my skirts and brushing a hand over my hair in an attempt to diminish the frizz. “Do come in.” 

“Bonjour mademoiselle! J’espère que vous aves bien dormi–” 

“Good heavens, Lumiere! Did you stop to think she might not know French?” a voice broke in. 

I tilted my head as the door opened to reveal a golden candlestick with three flaming candles and a sophisticated, dark oak clock. _That’s odd…I thought I heard voices. What are these objects doing here?_

“Too true. Do you know French, mademoiselle? Such a beautiful language, the language of love and romance.” 

I squeaked, stumbling backwards onto the floor and just missing hitting my head on the bed post. _Did that candlestick just…wink at me? No, no, no, did he just talk?_

“Look what you’ve done, you flaming idiot.” The decorations on the front of the clock separated, as though to form lips and a mouth. I could have almost sworn the two round golden decorations near the top of the clock blinked, then looked at me. 

“Am I…am I dreaming?” I murmured, eyes wide with wonder. 

“Oh no, we’re quite real,” the candlestick began walking toward me. 

I stared as he approached. The closer he became, the easier it was to see a distinct mouth, nose, and eyes on the polished gold. 

“Y-you can talk…and walk?” I stuttered, my eyes glued to the candlestick as his metal mouth curved up into a smile. 

“Just as well as you can. So, do you speak French?” he probed, grasping one of my hands in two of his candlestick arms and pressing his metal mouth to the back of my hand. 

“I-I…je parle un peu français…” I nodded slowly, pulling my hand away from him. “I prefer English though.” 

“Aha! I know you could speak French just by looking at you,” the candlestick crossed his arms and smirked at the clock. 

“That’s Lumiere, and I’m Cogsworth,” the clock sighed, clearly irritated by Lumiere’s flirtatious show. 

“I’m…Beauty,” I replied, a small smile flickering across my face. _They’re so polite…and sweet…_

“Indeed you are,” Lumiere crooned, batting his eyes at me. 

“Lumiere…” Cogsworth shook his head. 

“What? It has been too long since such a beautiful young lady has been our guest!” Lumiere defended, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout. 

I giggled, my spirit lifting slightly as my curiosity piqued. “How can you talk? And…walk? How are you alive?” 

“Ah,” Lumiere sighed, pressing one of his lit candles against his frame, dripping hot wax, and looking downcast. “It is as if she has never met a live candlestick before. Aïe, ça fait mal!” 

I covered my mouth with my hands, guilt washing over me. “I am so sorry, I did not mean to be rude!” 

“You were not being rude,” Cogsworth interrupted before Lumiere could continue his dramatic display. “It is a long story, but short version – we were cursed by an evil enchantress. Lumiere and I were once human, you know.” 

“You were?” I gasped. 

“Yes, I was very handsome,” Lumiere grinned, then glanced at Cogsworth. “But he looked just as ugly as he does now.” 

“Well, I think he looks quite attractive,” I declared, smiling at Cogsworth. 

A pink tinge appeared on Cogsworth’s wooden cheeks and he chuckled, sheepishly looking down at the ground. 

“Oh, do you know a Mrs. Potts? The creature who owns the mansion mentioned her name last night when he moved me out of the dungeon.” 

“The Master kept you in the dungeon?” Lumiere exclaimed, his eyes widening. “Disgrace! Je vais lui parler about this! Honteux! Absolutely disgraceful!” 

“You’re rambling in French again,” Cogsworth sighed as Lumiere continued to sputter and rant. “Yes, Mrs. Potts lives in the kitchen. She is like our mother here in the mansion.” 

“Is she like you?” 

“She’s a teapot, so yes,” Cogsworth admitted. “All of the servants are objects of some kind.” 

“May I meet her?” I asked hopefully. “You seem so nice, I would love to make more friends here in the mansion since…” My voice trailed off as the realization that I would never leave burned into my mind. 

“Since…what?” Lumiere questioned, his voice suddenly soft and full of concern. 

I forced a smile onto my lips and shook my head. “I’ll be living here forever, won’t I? So I should become friends with all of you so I do not grow lonely…” 

“You are already lonely, aren’t you?” Cogsworth murmured, waddling toward me and placing his wooden hand on my knee. His eyes looked up at me, full of compassion. 

I took a deep breath, nodding once. “I shall be fine, once I get used to the idea. But…I suppose you and Lumiere are also captives. So we shall be captives together.” 

Lumiere opened his mouth but Cogsworth clapped his wooden hand over Lumiere’s metal exterior. “We shall take you to the kitchen.” 

“Thank you.” I dipped my head gratefully, then rose to my feet. “Are…are you sure that the beast will not mind if I leave my room?” 

“He’s really not as scary as you might think,” Lumiere scoffed, waving his candlestick arm dismissively. “Besides, he sleeps in until the afternoon so you have the entire morning to spend however you wish.” 

“Really?” I asked, following the two down several flights of stairs. “He made it sound like I was a prisoner here…but you are giving me the privileges of an honored guest.” 

“He exaggerated,” Lumiere laughed. “You are staying here for a while, so you might as well make this mansion your home.” 

“Oh, alright,” I agreed, my voice high with surprise. _This was not how I expected to be treated…_

“Mrs. Potts! Are you in here, ma chérie?” Lumiere called in his melodic voice as we entered the kitchen. “Would you like to meet our guest?” 

“Oi, Lumiere! You should have warned me you were bringing her to meet me. I look a frightful mess,” a rich, motherly voice admonished. 

I peered around a large vase sitting on a table and locked gazes with a quaint, porcelain teapot. A purple and gold flowered pattern decorated the pale exterior of the teapot and a thin black line marked her lips. 

“Mrs. Potts, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I curtsied, smiling at the beautiful pot. 

“The pleasure is all mine, love,” Mrs. Potts laughed, hopping toward me. “How did you sleep? I apologize for our Master putting you in the dungeon like that. I lectured him about the rudeness of such an action.” 

“I slept well, and thank you.” Somehow, I could not see the beast taking a lecture from a teapot or a candlestick. However, if it allowed me to sleep in an actual room with a soft mattress and luxurious decor, I was not about to cause a fuss. 

“Lumiere, Cogsworth, would you take the Master his morning coffee?” Mrs. Potts asked, nodding toward a silver pot on a polished silver tray with a single teacup. 

“I thought he did not awaken until the afternoon…” I blurted out, anxiousness growing within me. “If he finds out that I’m down here, will he be angry?” 

“Oh, he only awakens to drink his coffee. He falls right back asleep afterwards,” Mrs. Potts assured me as Lumiere picked up the tray and Cogsworth followed him out of the kitchen. 

I exhaled in relief, but a pinprick of worry still flitted around my mind. 

“Are you hungry, my love? I have coffee, tea, and some muffins made fresh this morning!” 

“That sounds lovely,” I agreed. “Do you and the other servants eat since you’re…” I paused, unsure of how to phrase my question without appearing rude. 

“Since we’re not human?” Mrs. Potts interjected, her soft laugh filling the warm kitchen. “No, we do not. Although Lumiere has tried to eat cake several times. We don’t need food anymore.” 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, frowning. “It must be quite difficult to be a teapot.” 

“I do miss being a human,” Mrs. Potts smiled sadly. “But all of the servants have come to terms with our forms. Now, let’s get you something to eat.” 

“Wait,” I called out as Mrs. Potts jumped down off the table onto a chair, and then onto the counter of the kitchen. 

She paused, turning around. “Yes?” 

“Will you tell me the story of why you were turned into a teapot while I eat breakfast?” 

A pensive expression crossed Mrs. Potts’s face, then was replaced by a gentle smile that reminded me so of my mother. “Very well.” 


	7. The Enchantress's Curse

“Coffee or tea?” Mrs. Potts asked as I grabbed a plate with two banana nut muffins on it. 

“Tea, please. Coffee is too strong for me.” 

“Agreed,” Mrs. Potts winked at me. She swallowed some tea leaves from a cup, inhaled some water through her spout, then situated herself on the stove. 

“Would you like me to stoke the fire?” I offered. After a nod from the affectionate teapot, I kneeled beside the stove and stoked the embers with a metal poker. 

“Do you like your tea warm or hot?” 

“In between, please.” I sat down on a stool near the stove, warming myself by the cozy fire. 

Several minutes passed as Mrs. Potts and I sat in a comfortable silence, waiting for the water to boil. When it finally did, she hopped off the stove and poured some tea into a chipped tea cup. 

“Be careful with this cup,” she warned as I picked it up and headed to the table. “That’s my son, but he’s sleeping.” 

“Pardon?” I choked on my sip of tea, quickly setting the cup on the kitchen table with wide eyes. 

“Nonsense, you can still drink from him! He’s just still asleep and the warm tea is like his blanket,” Mrs. Potts assured me. 

I eyed the chipped tea cup, barely able to make out a few black lines that must have been the cup’s eyes and lips. “What’s his name?” 

“Chip.” 

“It suits him,” I teased, taking another sip of the delicious liquid. I could feel it warming my insides as it relaxed me. 

The teapot returned my grin, then hopped onto the table and faced me. “Now, eat up while I tell you the story. I won’t have anyone hungry in this household.” 

“I’m…not really in your household. More like a prisoner,” I murmured, swirling the tea in the cup. 

“Hush, you are most certainly part of my household,” Mrs. Potts announced, ignoring my comment about my captivity. 

I opened my mouth to object, but was silenced with a look from the expressive teapot. 

“Shall I begin or will you continue to interrupt?” 

A blush crept into my cheeks and I nodded quickly. 

“Very well. Years ago, when the Master was but a small child, his father was killed during a battle for the kingdom they lived in. The Master’s mother became distraught with grief and offered to fight in the battle, despite her son being so young and alone at home. The king granted her permission and she fought well, until she was slain by an enchantress. The enchantress had been in love with the Master’s father, but when his father had chosen to marry another, she vowed to get her revenge. However, everyone here assumed that her revenge had been completed with the murder of the Master’s mother. But…it was not. For ten years, the Master grew up in this household being raised by me, his nanny, Lumiere, his tutor, and Cogsworth, his butler.” 

“Is that why Lumiere is French? He’s a French tutor?” 

“Yes, my dear. He’s quite fluent in other languages as well, but French is his first love. Now, when the Master reached his sixteenth birthday, we threw him a large party. Even the king himself made a brief appearance. Unfortunately, so did the enchantress. She had one more task to check off in her revengeful plot – curse the Master. In front of all his guests, she transformed him from a handsome young man into an atrocious beast. She did not stop there, though. She transformed all of the servants who were closest to him. The other servants ran away from the mansion with the guests in a terrible fright.” Mrs. Potts shook her head, a distant look clouding her eyes. 

“Is there a way to break the curse?” I asked, hesitant at the distress on Mrs. Potts’s expression. 

“Yes. But it is impossible,” she laughed dryly. “A girl must fall in love with the Beast and the curse will be broken when she kisses him.” 

“Oh gross,” I shuddered, then gasped. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant! I did not mean that it would be disgusting to kiss the Master, but that kissing in general is just gross. But not just toward him. It’s just that I don’t understand romance and–” 

“It’s quite alright, love,” Mrs. Potts interrupted me with a smile. “I do believe the Master is quite pleased with his current form. He enjoys how powerful he is and how quiet the mansion is. He was never one for parties or conversing with people. He much prefers his solitude.” 

“We are alike in that regard,” I admitted. “I love staying at home with a good book and a nice cup of tea.” 

Mrs. Potts’s eyes lit up. “The Master used to love books. He hated reading, but he loved being read to. Unfortunately, he locked up the library after he shifted into a beast. Even Lumiere is not allowed to enter that room.” 

_Books…_ Desire swelled up within me. To touch the pages of a story. To be immersed in a world far from my own. To inhale the scent of a book. “How many books does he have?” 

“Oh, thousands. His mother had a huge collection and, when she passed, he began adding to it all the way up to his sixteenth birthday.” 

_Thousands…_ My eyes fluttered closed as I tried to imagine a room with thousands of books. Thousands of stories dying to be read. Thousands of books to read and re-read whenever one wished. Perhaps there were bookshelves lining the walls, each shelf full of brightly colored covers with creamy white pages enclosed. A large sofa, with plump cushions, would sit beneath a giant window with thick drapes on either side. 

“Would…would he ever let me just see the room?” I whispered, my voice barely audible as I tried to quench the hope that the beast might let me in. 

“I’m sorry, love. That would be impossible,” Mrs. Potts sighed, pouring more tea into my cup. “Even he has not been in there since his birthday so long ago.” 

I felt a tightening in my chest at the thought of so many books lying un-read and un-cherished in the room. “It’s almost cruel, to let so many books go to waste like that. In my village, there were only about a hundred books. Once a year, there would be a new shipment but I would reread them over and over. I would have loved to have access to thousands of books…” 

Mrs. Potts nodded in agreement. “There are a lot of things that go to waste here.” 

“Perhaps I can help change that!” I suggested, straightening in my chair. 

“Whatever do you mean?” 

“This mansion is falling apart. We could help maintain it. The draperies in my bedchamber have holes in them, but we could overlap some of the fabric to hide it and sew it in place. And everything needs to be dusted and cleaned!” 

A wide smile grew on Mrs. Potts’s porcelain face. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. Lumiere and Cogsworth would be more than happy to help. We have often wanted to do it ourselves, but our…mobility is limited, to say the least.” 

“I want to help too!” a childish voice piped up. 

I jumped as my chipped tea cup came alive and hopped over to Mrs. Potts. 

“Chip, don’t be rude. Say hello to our guest, the one I was telling you about,” Mrs. Potts chided her son before turning him around with her spout to face me. 

“Hello!” Chip grinned, revealing a set of pearly white teeth, but his front tooth had a chip in it. 

Laughing, I returned his greeting. “We would love to have your help, Chip. You seem like a wonderful helper.” 

“I am!” the young tea cup puffed up the lip on his cup and stood as stretched as tall he could. 

“Darling, let Miss…” 

“Beauty.” 

“A lovely name. Darling, let Miss Beauty finish her tea before you go running off.” 

“Yes, mama,” Chip obeyed, hoping toward me and shifting his handle up for me to reach. 

“Thank you, Chip.” I winked, picking him up by the handle and draining the contents of the warm tea. As soon as I set him down, he hopped off the table and headed toward the kitchen door. 

“I’m gonna go say hi to Miss Wards,” Chip hollered as he rolled under the door and disappeared on the other side. 

“Who is Miss Wards?” I asked, glancing at Mrs. Potts. 

“Oh, she’s a wardrobe in your room. She used to be the Master’s personal seamstress.” 

“She’s in my room?” I raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? No one was talking except Lumiere and Cogsworth.” 

“She’s rather old, love. It takes quite a loud noise to awaken her. Chip is the only one who can awaken her with his voice, but then again, she’s always had a special spot for him,” Mrs. Potts smiled fondly. 

I leaned back in my chair and clasped my hands in my lap. In the warmth of the cozy kitchen, with the lovely Mrs. Potts and the idea of such good friends, the captivity in the castle did not seem nearly as drab and dismal as before. _In fact,_ I smiled. _I may actually be able to enjoy it._

“Where. Are. My. Roses?” a deep, terrifying voice shouted, not at all muffled by the layers of floors separating it from the kitchen. 

My moment of peace fled. 

“Oh goodness! I forgot to have Lumiere pick the Master’s roses to go with his coffee,” Mrs. Potts whistled nervously. “The Master is so temperamental in the morning.” 

“I’ll go get them!” I offered, jumping out of my chair and scooting it under the table. “I saw the rose garden this morning from my window.” 

“Wonderful, love. Go and cut three dark red roses and bring them in. Make sure they’re the biggest roses you can find or his temper will only increase,” Mrs. Potts warned. “Grab the shears over there on that dresser.” 

I sprinted to the dresser in the corner of the kitchen and grabbed a rusty pair of shears that were settled on top of it. 

“Go quickly!” Mrs. Potts urged, hopping after me as I ran out of the door. 

The beast continued complaining as his heavy footsteps began descending the stairs. I didn’t bother looking behind me to see how close he was as I darted across the large entry way to the front door. I wrapped my hand around the giant handles and pulled with all my might, barely budging the heavy wood. 

“No, no, no! I don’t have time for this,” I whined, jerking harder. Each yank opened the door only a few inches, but once there was enough room for me to slip through, I did. Grasping the shears tightly in one hand, I lifted my skirts with the other and hastened down the crumbling steps. 

“Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall,” I chanted. As the stairs came to an end, I turned right and made my way through a path lined on either side by an overgrown hedge. Even though branches kept poking me in the sides, all I could focus on were the roses. The beast…er, Master, had to have the roses. I shuddered. _What will he do if he doesn’t get them?_

Bolting into the rose garden, I spun around frantically, looking for the dark red roses Mrs. Potts had described. Several large rose bushes with dark red flowers sat in the middle of the garden surrounding a mossy stone fountain. _I bet this was beautiful when it was working…_ I strode toward the bushes and cut three large, dark red roses. As I turned to go back down the path to the mansion, the sweet aroma mixed with the crisp morning air and my senses were overwhelmed. 

I closed my eyes, gripping the roses to my bosom, and inhaled deeply. The smell of roses was intoxicating as I stood in the middle of the garden. _No wonder the Beast keeps the garden so well maintained…_ Somewhere, in a tree nearby, I could hear the soft chirping of baby birds. _This would be perfect if Father were here. Perhaps this is what it would be like if we still lived in our mansion._

“Roses!” 

I cringed as the booming voice of the beast reached my ears. Without hesitation, I broke into a run toward the mansion with the roses in one hand and shears in the other. _Please don’t let him kill me, please don’t let him kill me, please…please…please._


	8. An Unlikely Companion

“Do you have them?” Mrs. Potts asked, her voice strained as I dashed into the kitchen. 

“Yes, are they big enough?” I held them out for her to inspect. 

“They’re perfect. The Master is–” 

“Right here.” 

I spun around as the deep voice muttered behind me. The beast stood in the doorway, his furry arms crossed and a scowl darkening his face. 

I held out the roses and bowed my head. My body trembled, despite my best efforts, as the beast’s large paw grabbed the dark red flowers from my hands. His paw brushed against my hand, paused, then withdrew quickly with the roses. _His paws are so soft…_ I titled my head sideways to glance up at him, surprised by how soft his features appeared. 

“These are perfect,” he murmured gruffly, his eyes swarming over the roses with adoration. 

_Is that a…compliment?_ Staring wide-eyed up at him, I studied how he pressed the petals to his snout and inhaled deeply while closing his green eyes. There was something so serene about his obvious love for the flowers that I found my fear fading and a smile crossing my lips. 

“What are you doing?” the beast growled, his eyes flashing open and glaring at me. 

“N-nothing,” I stuttered, smile disappearing as I stepped backwards toward the kitchen table. Gripping the sides of it, I shrunk against it. _Every single time he lets his guard down around me, he grows angry…_ I shuddered involuntarily as the beast took another step towards me. 

“You were smiling at me.” 

“I-I’m…sorry?” my voice cracked and I cleared my throat, looking away. 

“Why were you smiling at me?” the beast demanded, his voice growing louder. 

“Master, perhaps your tone…” Mrs. Potts piped up, her voice sweet but laced with warning. 

The beast wrinkled his snout and looked away, lifting his paw to scratch the back of his furry neck. “I’m going back to bed,” he muttered, turning his back to me and letting the kitchen door swing shut behind him. 

“He’s not a morning person,” Mrs. Potts apologized, hopping closer to me. 

“I had not noticed,” I chuckled, relieved to have the creature far away from me. For the moment. “Why does he love roses so? He looked so…peaceful.” 

“His mother loved roses. She used to grow them by herself, refusing to let any of the gardeners touch her precious flowers. When the Master was a child, he would help her in the garden. Then…when she passed away, he took it upon himself to keep up the garden.” 

“It’s so beautiful…” I breathed, images of the surreal beauty flooding my mind. “It would be the perfect place to read a book and spend the morning.” 

“The Master used to spend his mornings there,” Mrs. Potts hesitated. “He has changed greatly, but I think you would have enjoyed him when he was human.” 

“He is not as beastly as he tries to convince me, is he?” 

“Oh no,” Mrs. Potts laughed. “He _is_ grumpy, but loving and loyal – at least to us servants.” 

“Mrs. Potts!” 

I jumped at the beast’s voice, suppressing a yelp. 

“One moment,” Mrs. Potts replied, raising her voice to an incredibly loud level. 

Had my ears not shattered at her tone, I would have been impressed. 

“I thought he was going to sleep.” I frowned, staring at the door and leaning against the kitchen table. 

“So did I,” she grunted, then smiled at me. “Would you mind carrying me up to his room? It’s a bit of a walk for me.” 

“Of course!” I held my hands out in a cupped shape. 

She hopped onto my waiting hands. I picked her up and held her close to my chest, gripping her delicate porcelain handle to avoid her falling. 

“Thank you, love.” 

“I like to be useful.” I opened the kitchen door with my elbow and walking out to the large staircase. 

Mrs. Potts directed me up the stairs and down a dimly lit hallway to a door at the very end of the hall. I set her down outside the door and stepped back. 

“I…think I’ll go back to the kitchen,” I whispered, glancing anxiously at the door as if the beast would emerge and begin yelling at me any moment. 

“Very well,” Mrs. Potts responded distractedly, knocking on the door with her spout. 

As heavy footsteps approached the door, I fled down the hallway, my feet light and fast. _There is no way I want to risk his anger again._   

“Ah, mademoiselle!” Lumiere’s friendly voice greeted me as I paused at the staircase. Lumiere and Cogsworth grinned and waved at me from the bottom of the stairs. 

“Hello,” I laughed, descending the staircase with much more grace than I had exhibited whilst running down the hall. 

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Cogsworth inquired, eyeing me with a degree of concern. 

“Away from the Master’s room,” I admitted, taking a seat on the last stair so I could be eye level with my new companions. “His morning outburst…” 

“Was quite normal for him,” Lumiere shrugged his golden shoulders and chuckled. “He was more tame than usual…perhaps it was your calming influence.” 

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I do not believe I have a calming influence, or any influence, over him.” 

“Beauty,” Mrs. Potts sang from the top of the stairs. 

I turned around hesitantly, relief washing over me as I noticed the beast was nowhere to be seen.”Yes, ma’am?” 

“The Master wants us to return to your chamber and awaken Miss Wards to find a suitable wardrobe for you,” Mrs. Potts exclaimed, practically glowing as she hopped down the staircase with a little laugh every now and then. 

_Why would he be concerned with how I’m dressed…? I’m his prisoner._ I shook my head, sighing heavily. _He’s a confusing captor._

“Oo la la,” Lumiere cried, his candles bursting into flame. “I simply _must_ assist you, I was gifted with an eye for fashion.” 

“That’s rather an exaggeration,” Cogsworth muttered under his breath as Mrs. Potts finally landed beside me. 

“You’re just jealous I’m more gifted than you in that area,” Lumiere sniffed, raising one of his candlesticks and bopping Cogsworth on his wooden head. 

“Ow,” Cogsworth yelped, glaring at the golden figure. 

“Why…why would he give me clothes?” I asked, searching Mrs. Potts’s gaze. “Why would he show me any kindness?” 

Mrs. Potts shared a knowing look with Lumiere and Cogsworth before turning a smile towards me. “The Master cares for everyone in his mansion. He is a hospitable host.” 

“He’s holding me against my will,” I pointed out, arching an eyebrow. 

“Yes…” the motherly teapot hesitated. “But since you are here, he wants to look after you.” 

_What a strange creature._ Frowning, I followed the servants up to my room, all the while pondering the actions of the beast. _Perhaps he is in need of a friend. Perhaps he feels slightly guilty about capturing me. Perhaps…eventually, he will allow me to return home to visit Father!_

“Beauty?” Cogsworth tugged on my skirts with his wooden hand. “What color would you like your first dress to be?” 

Snapping out of my thoughts, I tried to quench the hope rising within me at the idea of seeing Father again. “Um…any color would be fine.” 

“Pink would look lovely on her,” Lumiere swooned, cupping his head in his hands and batting his golden eyelashes at me. 

“Pink, then,” I laughed, winking at the candlestick – much to his delight. 

“Miss Wards,” Mrs. Potts shouted, knocking on the mahogany wardrobe positioned in a corner section of my chambers. 

The wardrobe sighed and two eyes blinked open on the doors of the large cabinet. “Good morning, Mrs. Potts,” Miss Wards mumbled, her eyes slowly closing again and a soft snore escaping from within her closed doors. 

“Miss Wards,” Mrs. Potts continued, her voice firm. “We have a guest to dress. The Master has ordered it.” 

“A guest?” Miss Wards gasped, eyes flying open and a series of musty coughs filling the room with dust. “Chip mentioned it this morning, but I thought he was using his imagination! W-where is this guest?” 

Lumiere pushed me forward into the view of Miss Wards. I curtsied to the wardrobe, smiling as she grinned widely. 

“Wonderful! Simply wonderful. Why was I not informed of this before?” 

Mrs. Potts chuckled and glanced at me with a smile. “It is rather a new development. Now, a wardrobe for this young lady?” 

“Oh yes, yes. Of course,” Miss Wards winked at me. 

“I must be returning to the kitchen.” Mrs. Potts nodded to me. “You are in good hands.” 

“Thank you,” I replied sincerely, then glanced around at Lumiere, Cogsworth, and Miss Wards. “You are all so nice and welcoming. I almost feel at home.” 

“We have to make up for the Master,” Cogsworth crossed his arms, but smiled. 

“Cogsworth and Lumiere, out of Beauty’s room!” Mrs. Potts ordered, hopping toward the door. “It is very improper for men to watch a lady change.” 

“I am not a man,” Lumiere gasped indignantly. “I am a candlestick!” 

Rolling his eyes in a way I had grown to enjoy, Cogsworth grasped Lumiere’s candlestick arm in his wooden hand and dragged him out the door behind Mrs. Potts. Lumiere’s loud complaints continued down the hall as I turned back to Miss Wards. 

“Give me one moment dear, I’m trying to find my tape measure,” the friendly wardrobe muttered, her dresser drawers bulging and her cabinet doors opening and shutting. “Aha!” 

Before I could respond, Miss Wards’s wooden hands were measuring me. Waist, hips, bust, height, and other measurements I was not sure were quite necessary. In a flash, the tape measure disappeared into the depths of her dressers and she began to hum. 

“You can come back in a few hours and I should have several dresses done!” 

“Several?” My eyes widened. “In such a short time? And why so many? I am content with just one.” 

“Nonsense,” Miss Wards laughed. “If the Master ordered an entire wardrobe for you, you shall receive an entire wardrobe. Now, off you go! Let me be.” 

“Y-yes, ma’am,” I agreed, curtsying once more before darting out the door. _I’m going to get new dresses…_ Delight raced over me as I made my way back to the kitchen. I had not received a new dress in nearly two years. I couldn’t even remember what a new dress felt like. 

“I’m going to show you the gardens,” a gruff voice declared as I skipped into the kitchen. 

I froze, staring into the glinting green eyes of the beast before me. _Why won’t he just sleep? It’s barely eight in the morning!_

“The morning is, um, chilly. Go and fetch your cloak,” he ordered, shifting his weight and averting his gaze. 

“I-I have no cloak, sir,” I spoke, my voice trembling with uncertainty about his reaction. 

“What silly girl has no cloak?” his voice boomed, echoing loudly off the gray stone in the kitchen. 

I took a step backwards, a shiver running down my spine. _I may not have a cloak, but I am not a silly girl._ I heard a hiss behind him and he coughed into his paw. 

“You can use one of mine,” he grumbled. “I’ll go fetch it. Stay right here.” 

I sidestepped away from the door as he strode toward it, his heavy footsteps shaking the ground beneath me. Glancing toward where he had been standing, I caught sight of Mrs. Potts sitting on the kitchen table. 

“Why would he suggest to go on a walk with me?” I asked anxiously, approaching the kitchen table and taking a seat in one of the chairs. 

“I promise there is no maliciousness in his request,” Mrs. Potts assured me with a comforting smile. “Like you said, he is not as beastly as he appears to be.” 

_His temperament appears to suggest otherwise…_ I thought, but held back the comment. 

“Do you think he would ever let me see Father again?” I blurted out, the words slipping out before I could stop them. 

A sympathetic expression rested on the teapot’s pale face. “I would not ask that of him. I am sorry.” 

My throat tightened and I ducked my head, staring down at my lap. _Of course he wouldn’t. You knew that. Why would he? You’re his eternal prisoner, Beauty. He would not risk you meeting Father. You should never have thought it was possible._

A thick, soft material landed in my lap from above. 

“Here.” 

I stood up from my chair, grasping the cloak in my hands and avoiding looking at the creature. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah.” 

I threw the cloak on over my shoulders. Immediate warmth surrounded me and a small smile slipped past my sorrowful expression. 

“Now you shouldn’t catch a cold or…something,” he mumbled, his voice soft but masked with an unsure tone. 

“Thank you,” I replied, this time with genuine gratefulness. Curiosity triumphed my melancholy mood as I looked up to see his furry face. 

His eyes narrowed, but his expression was gentle and hopeful. It reminded me so much of a small child that, for a brief moment, I smiled at him. My action startled him and he scratched the back of his neck with his paw, his eyes shifting from my face to the kitchen door. 

“Let’s go.” 

Nodding, I started towards the door. His paw grabbed my shoulder and held me back. 

“No,” he snapped, then shook his mane-like head and sighed. Approaching the door, he opened it and evaded my questioning look. “Allow me.” 

_A moody, gentleman beast?_ I stifled a sigh as I murmured a ‘thanks’ and glided over the threshold. A small flicker of hope began growing within my chest as he continued his chivalry by opening other doors for me as well. _Perhaps he really does just want a friend._


	9. A Sweet Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is so hard for me to post only once a week because I get so excited about the next chapter that I have to share it with you, haha! xD I hope you all enjoy this one as much as I have. And sorry for the unscheduled posting – but at least I'm posting multiple times in one week instead of going several weeks without a new chapter!! Also please please please comment and let me know your thoughts!! Your comments are the only ways I know how you liked/disliked the story and it seriously makes my day to get a comment notification :3

_We walked quietly through the gardens, a strangely comforting silence between us. He stopped near a rose bush with full pink blossoms and leaned down to smell their sweet scent. He looked so peaceful…so happy…_

_“May…May I ask you a question?” I whispered, watching the beast carefully._

_He nodded, his eyes closed and his snout remaining deep in the rose he was smelling._

_“W-would you ever allow me….” I fidgeted with the cloak around my shoulders, struggling to phrase my request. “Would you ever let me go to the village and retrieve books to read?”_

_I knew immediately that I should not have asked the question. The beast’s shoulders stiffened and he raised up from the rose bush, his features darkening._

_“You are never leaving this castle,” he reminded me, his voice hoarse and even. “Never.”_

I groaned, pulling my knees up to my chin and resting my head on them. “How could I have been so stupid?” 

“You could not have known the Master’s answer,” Miss Wards responded, her humming signaling she was still hard at work on my dresses. 

Without bothering to reply, I stared out my window from my spot on the plush arm chair. _Why must I always anger him? Why cannot I learn to hold my tongue?_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

“Don’t fret, love,” Mrs. Potts’s sweet voice said as I took a sip of my morning tea. 

“He hasn’t seen me for two weeks,” I choked, my stomach lurching. I set my tea down on the table and shook my head. “I did not mean to make him so angry, Mrs. Potts.” 

“I know,” she replied, nudging the chipped tea cup closer to me. “But that does not mean you need to starve yourself. Besides, I thought you preferred time away from him.” 

“I do…” I agreed, my voice trailing off as I eyed the plate of figs Mrs. Potts had placed on a plate for breakfast. _Why do I care so much that he’s ignoring me? I’m not lonely…am I? I have Lumiere and Cogsworth and the others to talk to._

“How are you enjoying your new dresses? Miss Wards really outdid herself,” Mrs. Potts interrupted my thoughts. 

I smiled at her attempt to distract me. “Yes, they’re beautiful. Although, I do not understand why she made that yellow ballgown. It’s not as if there are any balls I’ll be invited to.” 

“It looks lovely on you regardless, love,” Mrs. Potts chuckled. “Every girl needs a ballgown.” 

“Even a prisoner?” I wrinkled my nose in doubt. 

“You never know,” she replied with a small shrug of her porcelain shoulders. “Haven’t you ever wanted to go to a ball?” 

“As a child, yes,” I agreed, recalling the days when I lived in my Father’s mansion. “My older siblings were able to attend the balls that Mother hosted, but I was too young. By the time I had become of age…” 

Mrs. Potts nodded in understanding. “Perhaps one day, you will be able to experience it.” 

“The music room is polished, dusted, and clean,” Cogsworth’s stiff voice announced as he, and a very tired looking Lumiere, entered the kitchen. 

“Oui, tout est propre,” Lumiere whispered, his candlestick arms drooping. 

“You look exhausted,” I exclaimed, sliding out of my chair and kneeling on the ground. 

“Oui, I am,” he continued, his voice growing fainter. He collapsed on my lap, but not before I caught him winking at Cogsworth. 

“Watch your candles,” Cogsworth muttered, rolling his eyes and resting against the cool, stone walls. 

I stifled a laugh, sharing an amused look with Mrs. Potts. 

“Perhaps, if you and Cogsworth are not too terribly tired, you can help me gather firewood. We’re running low on our supply,” I suggested. 

“I was not created for such menial labor,” Lumiere complained, jumping off my lap and staring up at me with sad eyes. “But for you, Mademoiselle Beauty, I will help.” 

With an annoyed sigh from Cogsworth, he, Lumiere, and I left the kitchen through the back door. 

“The Master said he chopped a large pile of firewood just next to the well,” Lumiere mentioned as we traversed across the tiled stones of the kitchen courtyard. 

“You talked to him?” I paused, eyeing the candlestick. “Is he still angry with me?” 

“He…he has still not seen you?” Lumiere frowned, walking out of the courtyard toward a moss-covered well by the edge of the forest. 

Sighing, I shook my head. 

“He will, Beauty,” Cogsworth smiled up at me. “Give him time. He is not used to your company yet.” 

“He’s the one that is keeping me here,” I whimpered, my voice sounding much more pathetic than I intended. I sighed and continued my pace. “So why won’t he see me?” 

Lumiere and Cogsworth did not answer me. They began to load up a few pieces of firewood into their arms and turned to return to the kitchen. 

_It’s unlike them to be so quiet…especially Lumiere. But you were being rather childish, Beauty._ I scolded myself. Grabbing several larger pieces of wood, I stacked them into my arms and followed the clock and candlestick back to the kitchen. _At least you are never bored. It could be worse._

“Miss Wards finished several more dresses for me,” I announced as Lumiere, Cogsworth, and I set the last load of firewood in the kitchen. “I think I shall go and try them on.” 

Mrs. Potts smiled and nodded her porcelain spout. “I’ll send for you when it’s time for supper.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I shall escort you to your la chambre à coucher,” Lumiere drawled, winking his golden eye in my direction. 

“She knows where it is, Lumiere,” Cogsworth huffed, narrowing his eyes at the candlestick in displeasure. 

“The mansion is large,” the candlestick defended. “It would be rude not to offer my services.” 

“Lumiere, perhaps you could go find Chip and ask him to come to the kitchen?” Mrs. Potts interrupted. 

“Ah, oui oui!” Lumiere exclaimed. “Je le trouverai et le rapporterai à toi!” 

“You are forgetting that I do not know french,” Mrs. Potts sighed as Lumiere hopped out of the kitchen humming a catchy tune. 

“Why didn’t the enchantress curse Lumiere to be English? That would have been enough for me,” Cogsworth grumbled as he followed his companion out the kitchen door. 

“Those two,” Mrs. Potts chuckled. 

“The mansion is never boring when they are around,” I pointed out, laughing. “I’ll be down for supper.” 

Mrs. Potts hummed a response as I wandered out of the kitchen and made my way up to my room. Despite the gigantic size of my prison, I was beginning to find my way around without too much trouble. 

When I arrived in my room, three dresses were draped across my bed and Miss Wards was fast asleep. Her soft snores continued while I selected a dress to try on. 

A sharp knock sounded on my door. My pulse began to race and I closed my eyes, waiting for the beast to barge in and gut me as he had threatened the first night of my captivity. 

“A-are you in here?” his voice demanded, but wavered slightly. 

I opened my eyes, studying the door warily. “Yes.” 

“Good. Are you occupied?” 

I ran my hand over the green silk dress I had just slipped on. The comfortable material fell in gentle ruffles down to the ground, brushing against the marble floor. How I wished I could play dress-up with the wardrobe all day, avoiding any interaction with the moody creature. _It has been two weeks though…perhaps he has forgiven me?_ Fighting back a rude response, I sighed. “No.” 

“Will you…come with me? I want to show you something.” 

_What could he possibly want to show me? What could he possibly do that wouldn’t result in one of us having a complete breakdown?_ Ignoring my numerous misgivings, I approached the door and opened it. 

The beast was clasping his hands nervously behind his back, but he grew motionless as he took in my flattering new attire. 

“Do you like it?” I asked, searching his face for some sort of approval. 

He nodded gruffly, then turned and plodded down the hallway toward the second set of stairs. Delicately picking up my skirts, I trailed along behind him, making sure to stay a safe distance away from him in case he decided to find something that irritated him. 

After we climbed the second staircase, he led me down a hallway I had never been in before. There was a single door on the entire right side that he paused in front of, then handed me a key to. 

“Open it.” 

My heart pounded fiercely as I accepted the key and inserted it into the keyhole. Turning it, I could feel some rust resisting the key. The beast covered my hands in his and helped me turn the key until the lock released. He withdrew his paws, waiting for me to continue. 

“What’s in there?” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. _Is he still angry at me? Could this be some sort of torture room?_

“Open it.” His face remained expressionless. 

Closing my eyes, I grasped the golden handle and pressed down on it. The door creaked open on its old, rusty hinges and as I dared to open my fearful eyes, I gasped. 

The room was larger than any I had ever seen and every single wall was covered in shelves. The shelves were squished full of books in every shape, size, and color I could imagine. A bright, red carpet adorned the white, marble floor. Tables, chairs, and sofas were covered in large sheets gray with dust. 

“I-I should, um, open the drapes so you can, um, see better,” the beast stammered, brushing past my rigid frame and making his way through the room opening the dark drapes. 

As the morning light flooded in, the library seemed to grow in size. When all the drapes were opened, the beast returned to my side and stared down at me. 

“Do you like it?” 

“I…” my voice trailed off as I continued to take in the sheer magnificence of the room. Instead of answering, I raced over to the nearest bookshelf. Running my finger over the spines of the books, I selected a purple-covered novel and withdrew it from the shelf. “I’ve read this one before! And…and this one!” I reached for another novel, but it was too high. Not the least bit fazed, I slid the purple novel back into its place and ran over to another bookshelf. 

“Here,” a quiet voice murmured. 

I spun on my heel and was greeted by the beast holding out the novel I had been unable to reach. My heart was bursting with excitement and joy. I grabbed the book and opened it, pressing my nose into the yellowed pages. _It’s been so long since I’ve read a new book. Too long._ My eyes fluttered closed as the delicious aroma overpowered my senses, then I opened my eyes and placed it back into the hands of the beast. 

“Smell it! It smells divine,” I laughed, then darted around the room ripping all the sheets off the furniture. 

“You may come here whenever you like, now that you have the key.” 

“Thank you…” my voice was soft as I turned to smile at him, but he was padding to the door. “Wait!” 

He stopped, glancing over his shoulder with an unreadable expression, but I could have sworn his eyes were glistening with tears. 

“May…may I read to you?” I asked, a wide smile beaming on my face. 

“Oh…” 

“If you don’t want me to, I understand,” I ducked my head, feeling slightly embarrassed. _I should not have offered…it must have taken an enormous amount of strength to come in here, let alone stay…_

“No!” his voice was sharp and pained. “I…want you to.” He looked away, then turned and shut the library door behind him and ripped the sheet off one of the sofas. Nodding to it, he took a seat and looked at me expectantly. 

After retrieving a book from a bookshelf beside me, I took a seat next to the beast, holding the novel. After situating myself on the cushions, I opened the book and cleared my throat. 

“Once upon a time, there lived an old man and his wife…” 

The longer I read, the more at ease I grew around the strange creature. In return, he became more intrigued and scooted closer to me every chapter or so. Listening intently, he would stare over my shoulder at the words, as if they took him back to memories of long ago. 

As the afternoon progressed, I noticed a small smile resting on his lips and a content expression on his furry face. And in that moment, I nearly forgot he was not human. 


	10. The Beast of a Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so sorry it took me so long to post this chapter!! I wasn't sure what direction I wanted to go with it. Thank you for your patience <3 As always, I LOVE reading and replying to your comments, so let me know what you think!

“With his heart full of joy, he decided to open his very own flower shop to share his beautiful plants with the village. And, although the villagers were rather unsure about his dark past and gruff appearance, his kind nature soothed their fears. Together, he and his wife lived happily ever after.” 

I closed the book, gazing across the room as I savored the story. It was one I had never read before, but it was riveting all the same. A smile resting on my pink lips, I glanced sideways up at the beast. 

He was just inches away from me, his hands resting in his lap. His eyes were closed and a thoughtful expression lay across his furry features. The tiniest of smiles was poking through his dark brown whiskers. 

“I love that tale,” I murmured, looking down at the novel and tracing the title on the cover with my finger. 

“Me too. Although I don’t much care for the ending.” 

Readjusting my position on the sofa, I moved to face him. “Why not? I thought it was a very good ending.” 

“Perhaps…” the beast opened his eyes, then frowned at me. “The tale would have been more fascinating had it not included a certain aspect.” 

“What aspect would that be?” 

“It’s foolish. You would disagree, I’m sure,” he muttered, lowering his eyes and fidgeting with his paws. 

“Does it matter if I disagree?” 

“No.” 

“Then what is it?” 

He sighed, turning his large head toward mine. “I am not fond of the romance.” 

I eyed him for a moment, searching his sincere gaze. Then, a giggle rose up within me and I dissolved into laughter. _Who knew we would both prefer stories without romance? What an odd beast he is. And what interesting companions we make!_

He stared at me, clearly uncomfortable with my display. Tears welled up in my eyes from laughing so hard and I shook my head. 

“I…I’m…the…same way,” I managed to choke out in between giggles. 

Relief flooded his face and his small smile widened into a grin. “In that case, I have several shelves of books that would interest both of us much more than romance.” 

As my laughter began to fade, I nodded. “That would be lovely. It’s getting near supper time though, should we resume our reading later?” 

“Oh…I had not noticed,” he grunted, pushing himself up and rubbing the back of his neck with his paw. 

“Maybe Mrs. Potts would be so kind as to let us dine in the library?” I suggested cautiously, standing to my feet. The beast was nearly three feet taller than me as we stood facing each other, but the way he held himself reminded me more of a young, excited child. 

“I’ll go ask–um, I mean _tell_ Mrs. Potts that we will be eating supper in here this evening,” he stammered, then pointed to a bookshelf at the far end of the library. “That shelf is full of mysteries, adventures, and action – all of which do not contain romance.” 

“I shall pick one and await your return,” I smiled, curtsying and setting the book in my hands on a nearby table. 

His lips drew back to reveal another grin before he ducked out of the room. I could hear his heavy footsteps racing down the stairs and his deep voice hollering for the teapot. 

Skipping to the end of the room, I pulled a chair over to the bookcase and climbed on top of it. I browsed the titles of the books, delight racing over me as I realized that not a single title looked familiar. _So many books…all written exactly the way I like. Father would be overjoyed if he knew that I was allowed into such a wonderful library…_ Humming softly, I ran my hand over the spines of the novels before deciding on one entitled ‘Road to Aleithia’. 

Running steps signaled the return of the beast. I jumped off the chair, then pushed it back into place just as he entered the room. He was holding a large tray with soup, bread, and a variety of small cakes and candies. _As always, Mrs. Potts truly outdid herself._

“Did you find a book?” he asked, placing the tray down on a table and sitting down in a chair. 

“Yes!” Handing him the novel, I took a seat next to him at the table and began dividing up the food onto two plates. 

“This is a good one,” he breathed, his voice strained with excitement as our eyes met. “Let us eat quickly so we can read it.” 

Thus began our nightly ritual. 

During the day, we would go about our separate duties. I often assisted Mrs. Potts in the kitchen and Lumiere and Cogsworth with cleaning. Meanwhile, the beast slept in, then tended to his rose garden and other small chores I had begun to assign him. Despite how exhausted we were at the end of the day, the beast and I would always have supper in the library and read an entire book, or at least several chapters, afterwards. Sometimes, even Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, and Chip would join us – but only when the beast was feeling especially friendly. 

As my days in captivity flew by, the beast and I began to form a strong friendship. It was not long before we confided in each other about our pasts and our fears, as if we were the closest of friends. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Tell me something,” I whispered, leaning against the beast’s furry arm as we sat in the library. 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Anything. Something you haven’t told me before.” 

“Adam.” 

I straightened up, tilting my head to look at him curiously. “Adam?” 

“My name. Before I was turned into a beast.” 

“I like that name.” I smiled, then laughed. “I almost forgot that your name was not ‘Beast’ or ‘Master’.” 

“Adam isn’t a very beastly name,” he grumbled, glancing at me with a wink. “But you can call me whatever you like.” 

With a soft sigh, I settled back into the sofa and curled against his warm arms. He lifted his right arm and wrapped it around me, then gently rested his head on top of mine. 

“My name isn’t really Beauty,” I stated. “It’s Belle.” 

The beast was quiet for a moment. I could feel his slow breaths ruffling my dark brown hair. 

“I shall call you Belle then.” 

“You are only the second person to ever call me that,” I murmured, my eyes growing heavy with sleep. 

“The second?” 

“My Father…he always did.” 

“Oh.” 

“Mhm,” I responded, relaxing in his embrace. “I think Father would like you.” 

The beast did not reply, but his breaths grew quicker and his heartbeat sped up. 

_I should not have mentioned Father…_ I squeezed my eyes shut and stifled a groan. That was the one person the beast did not want to hear about. 

“I’m rather tired.” 

“I’ll walk you to your chambers,” the beast said, helping me to my feet. 

We walked to my chambers in noiselessly. 

“Goodnight, Belle,” the beast grunted as I opened my door. 

“Goodnight,” I murmured sleepily, glancing over my shoulder with a smile. 

The beast stood in the hallway, fidgeting with his paws and avoiding my gaze. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He shrugged, briefly meeting my concerned expression with an embarrassed one. “Nothing.” 

Turning to face him, I crossed my arms and fixed him with a stern look. “No secrets.” 

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled, scuffing his paw on the plush carpet cushioning the floor. 

I took two large strides, then grabbed his giant paw in my hands. “You can tell me anything. You know that.” 

He looked down at me, his eyes narrowed and his lips turned down. “We–we’ve been spending a lot of time together.” 

“Yes…” 

“Um…yeah, so…we’ve told each other a lot about our pasts. And we…we cuddle.” 

“I know.” I arched an eyebrow. 

“Listen, there is no easy way…to, um, ask this. But…are you…are you in love with me?” he blurted out, his eyes widening as the words slipped out of his mouth. He jerked his paw out of my hand and crossed his arms, as though trying to look intimidating. 

“What?” I choked, my heart skipping a beat. _Oh no…don’t tell me…he’s in love with me? How in the world can I tell my captor that I don’t love him in that way? Will he get angry? Is he trying to break his curse? Um…maybe break it to him gently. Yes. Gently. It’s not that I don’t want to help him break the curse, necessarily, but I am definitely not the girl for that job._

“Do you?” he pressed, his voice strained. 

“Yes,” I nodded slowly. “However, I cannot break your curse…I only love you as a dear friend.” 

“Oh,” he murmured, his rigid form relaxing and his normal smile replaced his unsure look. 

“Oh? Are…uh, are you happy about that?” I asked, slightly confused. 

“Yes…” he admitted under his breath, scuffing his paw on the carpet once more. “I…I like being a beast and I was afraid that you might try to break the curse and–” 

“Firstly, you are much too tall for me to kiss,” I interrupted with a chuckle. “And second, I like you as a beast too. I wouldn’t want to change that.” 

“Good.” 

“Good.” 

We stood in silence, studying each other with amused expressions. 

“Sorry, that was…that was awkward,” the beast apologized, his throaty laughter echoing through the hall. 

“Goodnight, Adam.” I rolled my eyes with a laugh. 

He mumbled a goodnight, then lumbered up the stairs to his chambers. 

I shut my door, pressing my back against it with a heavy sigh. _Father. How I miss you…_ Nearly four months had passed since I had seen him and worry gnawed in my mind. _I hope you are safe and well, Father. Safe…and well._


	11. The Broken Curse

_“Beauty…” Father croaked, his face pale. Dark circles stood out under his drooping eyelids as he struggled to breath._

_“Father, Father…I am here,” I murmured, kneeling beside his bed. I kissed his cheeks, my tears dripping onto his wrinkled skin._

_“I…I…am…dying…”_

_“No, Father!” I cried, cupping his face in my hands and searching his eyes fervently. “You must not die, Father. You must never die!”_

“But if I could only know that you were safe and well taken care of…” 

“I am, but Father, I need you here too!” 

_Father smiled weakly, taking a heavy breath and exhaling. His chest stopped rising and his eyes fluttered closed as his head fell limp in my small hands._

_“No! No! Wake up, Father! Wake up,” I sobbed, kissing his cheeks and his nose and his face. “Do not leave me. Do not leave me here alone! Father, come back to me…”_

“Belle, wake up,” a hoarse voice demanded. 

My eyes flew open and I sat up as a loud sob parted my lips. “Father!” 

“It was a dream,” the beast interrupted, caressing my cheek with his paw. “You’re drenched in sweat.” He grabbed a handkerchief from my night table and patted my face with it, soaking up my sweat from the nightmare. 

“It…it was so real…” My lower lip trembled as I sat frozen on my bed. _Is Father really dying? Is he already dead? Is he hurting? I have to go to him. I have to see if he’s alright._

“It was a nightmare, nothing more.” 

The beast’s words did little to soothe the pain twisting and turning in my chest. A dark, foreboding sensation tingled down my spin., reminding me of the feeling I had received when Father left on his merchant trip so many months ago. I shivered. 

“It was my Father. He was dying,” I whispered as I stared ahead numbly, not bothering to hide the waver in my weak voice. “Adam…what if he really _is_ dying?” 

“It…it was a dream,” he muttered, standing up off the bed. “Let’s go to the kitchen. Mrs. Potts can make some tea to calm your nerves.” 

“I don’t want tea.” 

Sighing, Adam sat back down on the bed next to me and wrapped his furry arms around my quivering frame. “What do you want? Shall I get a book from the library? I…I’ll read it to _you_ this time.” 

I pressed myself into his arms, absorbing his calm warmth. “You would read to me? You hate reading.” 

“I hate seeing you upset.” 

“I…I want to visit my Father, Adam.” I could feel the beast tensing up, his pulse racing. But my mind was focused on Father and I would not be scared into silence again. “I must go to him. I have to make sure he’s alright. If he’s alive and well, then I’ll return immediately.” 

“And if he’s ill? Or dead?” the beast asked hoarsely, his voice low. 

“I shall have to take care of him if he is ill. If he is dead…” 

“Then what?” the beast demanded, his arms retracting away from me as he slid off the bed and stared at me. His eyes flashed and his snout snarled upwards. 

“I shall have to take care of my siblings. For a little while, not forever,” I replied, my voice quiet but firm. “If you had a chance to save your mother, wouldn’t you?” 

Instead of a verbal answer, I received a vicious growl. Then, Adam stalked out of my room and slammed the door behind him. I wilted onto my bed, my energy drained. _He’ll never let me leave. And Father could be dead…or dying._ I hugged my pillow tightly to my chest, sobbing into it. _I shall never forgive Adam for this._ As my resolve grew, my sobs quieted into a few hiccups and I fell into a restless slumber. 

A soft knock echoed through my bedchambers, easily awakening me. I eyed the door, unsure which servant would knock so quietly without speaking. Or, if it was Lumiere, singing me awake with a song in French. 

“Come in.” I propped myself up on the bed, not having enough energy to answer the door. 

The door opened and Adam walked in, his steps slow and hesitant. 

I bit my lip, turning my head away from him. _Oh, please. Not you. Go away._

“You are right. I would.” 

“Pardon?” I turned my head back to look at him. “What was I right about?” 

“If…” The beast bowed his head. “If I had the chance to save my mother, I would take it.” 

I watched him, my eyes narrowing. _And what does this have to do with me? Do you really expect me to forget everything just because you have feelings?_

He approached my bed and, when I made no move to stop him, sat at my feet. “You can go.” 

“What?” I choked, my eyes widening. “Do…you really mean that?” 

“You can go,” he whispered, his eyes slowly leaving his lap to search mine. They were glistening with unshed tears. “But…please come back, Belle.” 

I scrambled out from under the covers and threw myself at the beast, wrapping my arms around his neck. My lips brushed his cheek in a kiss, much like the ones I gave Father. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

“No…” his voice trembled. “No…no, no! Get back!” 

Frightened by his tone, I stumbled off the bed and took a few steps backwards. “What’s wrong?” Before he could answer, a golden glow surrounded every inch of his beastly figure. As our eyes locked, a heaviness pressed down on my chest. _Oh no…I’ve broken the spell…”_

“What did you do?” he cried, jumping off the bed and staring at his illuminated body in distress. “You said you did not love me like this! You promised!” 

“I…I do not love you like this…” I stammered, stepping backwards until my back hit the wall. “I do not understand…this…is impossible.” 

The beast did not respond, whether because he was speechless with anger or he was physically unable to because of the transformation, I did not know. The golden glow became bright and I turned to face the wall, cringing at Adam’s anguishing howls. Then silence. 

“Do not turn around,” a human voice ordered. 

_Is…is that…Adam?_ I nodded quickly, closing my eyes and leaning my forehead against the wall. _What have I done? He’ll never let me leave now…_ I clenched my fist in my nightgown and fought back the urge to cry. _It’s my own damn fault._

“Y-you can turn around.” 

Taking a deep breath, I glanced over my shoulder. Adam stood before me, appearing as human as I, and barely covered with my light blue bathrobe. 

“I am so sorry…” I breathed, taking in his true form with a mixture of confusion and regret. 

“We must find a way to turn me back,” he hissed, his beastly voice melting into that of a normal man. He coughed, then shook his head. “You have to find a way. I cannot live like this!” 

_Find a way…to turn him back? He must be joking._ I gaped at him with disbelief. 

“Beauty, ah, mademoiselle! Je suis humain! Look at me, I am…ô mon Dieu,” Lumiere’s melodic voice carried into my room as a handsome young man, dressed in fashionable French court attire, raced into my room. “Master, you are human as well! Wait…pourquoi portez-vous le peignoir de Belle?” 

“Do not mention the bathrobe, Lumiere,” Adam growled, tugging the silk fabric tighter around him. 

“Is everyone human now?” I asked, my voice cracking. “Are…are they happy?” 

“Happy? But of course, Mademoiselle! They are thrilled. You have broken the curse,” Lumiere laughed, clapping his hands together and winking at me. “I can eat again, dance again, love again!” 

I rolled my eyes as he directed a suggestive smirk toward me. 

“Leave, Lumiere,” Adam demanded, fixing the former candlestick with a threatening glare. 

“Pourquoi? You are so mean to me,” he sniffled, brushing a fake tear off his rosy cheeks. 

“Leave!” 

I jumped at the harsh tone the beast bellowed, realizing how upset he was. Lumiere pouted, but turned and left the room with one last wink in my direction. 

“How do we fix this?” 

“Find the enchantress?” I offered weakly, rubbing my temples. “Can it even be fixed?” 

“It has to be! I refuse to live the rest of my life as a…a human!” 

I arched an eyebrow, returning Adam’s glare. “You may have to learn to live with it.” 

“No,” he snarled, crossing his arms. The fabric on the back of the bathrobe ripped, sending a series of sequins bouncing into every corner of the room. 

I giggled, but slapped a hand over my mouth as soon as Adam’s pale face darkened into a crimson color. 

“I’m going to change. And then we’re going to talk,” he huffed, side stepping toward the door to cover his back. He shut it behind him, catching part of the bathrobe in the door. With a very unmanly grunt, he pushed open the door a crack, yanked out the bathrobe, and closed the door once more. 

_I cannot tell how angry he is._ I walked over to my dresser and pulled out a hairbrush. _Surely he would not take away my chance to see Father because of this though…_ Running the brush through my dark curls, I chuckled dryly. _If he’s too angry, seeing Father again would never be an option. Good heavens, Beauty. What have you done?_


	12. True Love

“You lied to me!” 

“No, I–” 

“Stop denying it. You said you did not love me, but yet I am human?” 

“I already told you–” 

“Yes, I have heard all your excuses.” 

“They are not excuses, I do not love you romantically.” 

“Only true love could break the spell, dammit!” 

“Maybe the enchantress lied,” I suggested, crossing my arms with a glare. “Because I do _not_ love you.” 

Adam’s face contorted with anger. He turned his back to me, wriggling in his musty clothes that were far too fancy for a simple afternoon and quite outdated. “I hate this body.” 

_You’re not the only one,_ I thought, eyeing his unsteady pacing and shaking my head. Twisting my hands in my skirts, I took a deep breath and stared at Adam. “I…I still wish to see my Father.” 

“And leave me like this?” he hissed, spinning around to face me. He looked more pitiful than angry. 

“At least you have no fear of death. I do not know what state my Father is in,” I pressed, my knuckles growing white as I clenched them tighter in the fabric. 

“You have to change me back.” 

“Perhaps there is something at my house, or the village, that will change you back,” I ventured, lowering my eyes to the marble floor of my chambers. _Unlikely…but if it helps him change his mind…_

“What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?” he sulked, holding his hand out in front of him and staring at it in disgust. “I’m so…fleshy.” 

“I am positive that Mrs. Potts will keep you alive.” 

“But–” 

“My Father, Adam,” I whispered, “I have to know if he is well.” 

He scowled darkly, averting his eyes from mine. His emotions were harder to hide with his human face, as he frowned and contemplated my request. 

“Please, Adam,” I begged, reaching for his hand. I held it in mine, squeezing it tightly and staring up at him. Holding a human hand again, besides my own, only increased my desire to see Father. _Please, please, please._

“Or…” 

“Or?” His eyes briefly flicked up to study my face. 

“You could come with me.” 

“No!” Adam snapped, ripping his hand out of my grasp and stumbling backwards several feet. “I am not going outside these walls looking like this.” 

“Then let me go!” I pleaded, clasping my hands together and pressing them against my chest. “Please.” 

He ran his hand through his thick brown hair, then strode across my chambers and swung the door open wide. Glancing over his shoulder, he glared at me. “Go.” 

_Wait! Not like this–_

The door shut behind him, leaving me in stunned silence. 

_Ignore it, Belle. You have to see Father._ I nodded, determined to leave the mansion before he changed his mind again. Pulling a musty travel bag from under my bed, I set it on a chair and turned toward the new wardrobe sitting in the corner of my room. Miss Wards had been so kind as to have Lumiere and Cogsworth put a new one in my room since she had transformed. A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. At least everyone else was pleased with their humanity. 

“Beauty!” a childish voice exclaimed, turning the knob on my door and bursting into the room. 

“Chip,” I laughed, glancing over my shoulder and grinning at the young boy. 

“Master said you were leaving us…” The boy’s shoulders slumped as he searched my face for confirmation. 

“Yes…but not forever,” I hesitated. _Not forever…right? It would be nice to live with Father again…but I have made such good friends here._

“Do you promise?” he sniffled, walking toward me and wrapping his little arms around my waist. 

I ruffled his blonde curls, then kissed the top of his head. “I will come back, Chip. I promise.” 

He rested his chin on my stomach, tilting his head back to smile at me. “Come back soon. We’re going to miss you.” 

“I’m going to miss you too.” 

“Mommy is packing up some food for you to take. I’ll run down to the kitchen and get it for you!” Chip bounced, spinning around and dashing out the door before I could thank him. 

As I began selecting dresses from my wardrobe and carefully folding them into the bag, a melancholy feeling settled over me. _I should be happy. I should be excited to go home._ After closing the bag with the few items I had packed, I stared out the window at the afternoon sun rising higher in the sky. Yes, I missed Father. And my sisters and brothers. But the mansion…the mansion, the servants, and Adam…that was home. 

_I cannot leave knowing that Adam is mad at me._ Gripping the handle of my bag, I opened my door and looked down the halls. Empty. _Where would he go…?_ I frowned, taking a few slow steps forward. _The garden._

A rush of adrenaline pumped through my veins as I bolted down several flights of stairs to the front door. I yanked it open with such a strong force that it was enough for me to slip through on the first try. 

“Adam!” I hollered, struggling to hold my bag in one hand and my skirts in the other. _Please be out here, please be out here…_ “Adam!” 

I struggled through the path, twigs and overgrown hedges slapping and poking me every way I turned. _If Delphine could only see me now…_ I rolled my eyes, almost able to hear her shrill voice screeching at my unladylike appearance. 

“Adam, answer me,” I demanded, stumbling into the clearing and dropping my bag by a light pink rose bush. 

“I thought you were leaving.” 

Adam’s tall figure stood rigid, his back to me, and his large cloak wrapped around his shoulders. 

“I was–I, I am,” I stammered. 

“Then why are you here?” 

“I cannot leave with you angry at me,” I murmured, shaking my head. “I promised to come back. And I am truly sorry for turning you into a human. And I promise to do everything I can to turn you back. And I–” 

“I know,” he sighed, turning to face me with a sad smile. 

“Then…you are not mad at me?” I asked, surprised to see no traces of anger in his beautiful green eyes. 

He closed the distance between us, pulling me into a tight embrace. I clung to his warm frame, the idea of leaving him suddenly seeming much harder than before. 

“I will miss you,” he said simply, then released me. 

My body felt cold the moment his arms left me, but the warmth was soon replaced by his large cloak falling around my shoulders. “Thank you.” 

“Cogsworth has prepared a horse for your travels. Lumiere has provided you with a small chest of gold for your family, and Mrs. Potts has made a bag of food for your journey,” Adam explained, picking up my bag and leading the way back down the path to the mansion’s entrance. 

“Thank you…” I repeated, smiling up at the young man. 

“Focus on your Father,” Adam shrugged, refusing to meet my eye. “And be safe on your journey.” 

I nodded, my mind floating back to my nightmare. I shuddered. _Father, wait for me. I’m coming home…_

As we approached the front of the mansion, a middle-aged man in a spotless uniform held a dark gray horse with two large bags on either side of his back. 

“Cogsworth, please help Belle with her bag,” Adam ordered, handing the bag to his butler. 

Cogsworth bowed, then began working on attaching the bag to the saddle. 

“I will see you soon, I pray.” Adam glanced down at me with a solemn expression. 

“Yes,” I agreed. _Nothing could keep me away from here._


	13. Home Sweet Home

“It looks so much smaller than I remember…” I whispered as I dismounted in front of the cottage. The flowers I had carefully tended to by the door were brown and trampled over. The door was slightly ajar due to a broken hinge and the roof was missing in a few places. _Do…do they even live here anymore?_

Leading the horse over to a wobbly fence post, I looped the reins around it and eyed the door. My throat tightened as I took hesitant steps toward my former home. _What if they’ve adjusted to my absence? Will they be happy to see me? Is Father…_ Unable to finish my thought, I raised my fist and knocked firmly against the doorway. 

“Hold on!” 

The familiar shrill voice of Delphine almost made me smile. Almost. 

“What the…” Delphine’s voice trailed off as her eyes widened in surprise. “You’re alive…” 

“Yes…hello, Delphine.” I twisted my hands in my dress, fighting the urge to run past her and find Father. 

“Where did you get that dress?” she demanded, reaching out and rubbing the silk fabric of my sleeve between her fingers. “Father said you were living with a monster.” 

“It’s…a long story,” I stammered, swallowing hard. “Is Father…where is he?” 

Delphine withdrew her hand, crossing her arms against her chest. “His room.” 

“In the middle of the day?” My pulse began to race and my mouth went dry. _I knew it. I knew something was wrong. Please let him be alright, please…_

“He’s ill and–” 

I pushed past Delphine and stumbled over the threshold. _He’ll be fine if I just take care of him…I just have to take care of him._

“Beauty, wait–” Delphine hollered, racing after me as I turned down the hallway toward Father’s room. 

“Father! Father!” I burst into his room, freezing as I saw his small, fragile frame. 

“B-beauty?” he asked, his voice weak and raspy. “Impossible…she’s dead. S-she’s a ghost n-now.” 

“No, Father,” I whispered, approaching his bed with soft steps. “I am no ghost.” 

He struggled to push himself up as I drew near. Taking a seat beside him on his uncomfortable straw tick, I grasped his hand in mine and pressed a gentle kiss against the back of his hand. 

A tear rolled down his thin, wrinkly cheeks and his sunken eyes glistened. _If I had only come sooner…_ My throat tightened as he attempted to smile, but his lips only twitched a few times before he fell back upon his pillows with a series of coughs. 

“What happened?” 

“Tuberculosis. You should not be near him, Beauty,” Delphine replied, leaning against the door way. 

I glanced over my shoulder at my older sister, noticing the dark circles under her eyes and her thin body. “The doctor can cure him, right?” 

Delphine laughed, shaking her head. “In case you do not remember, sister, we have no income. No doctor will heal him for a bowl of stew and a smile.” 

“Fetch the doctor,” I demanded, standing up from the bed. “I can pay for treatment.” 

“It will cost a small fortune–” 

“Delphine.” I motioned to my silk dress and warm cloak. “I can pay.” 

“I’ll send Harrison to fetch the doctor.” She nodded, turning slowly to leave. 

“I will not let you die, Father. I will not allow it,” I stated, sitting back down beside him. 

“Do…do not make promises…you cannot…keep,” he wheezed, his chest heaving. He patted my hand, a small smile appearing briefly upon his slender face. 

I opened my mouth to argue, but no words came out. _He…he cannot die. I’m here and I will take care of him…he will not die._

“I love you, Father. I am so sorry I did not come sooner,” I sniffled, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back tears. _He cannot die. He cannot die. He cannot…_

“I love you…Belle.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“No, there must be something you can do,” I growled, clenching my teeth together as I glared up at the doctor. 

“I have already told you, making him comfortable is all you can do.” 

“I can pay, dammit! How much do you want to heal him? Ten coins? Twelve coins?” I held out a leather bag full of gold coins under the doctor’s nose. 

The doctor pocketed the five coins I had already payed him, then closed his black bag with an apologetic smile. “Make him comfortable. That is all.” 

“Thank you for your time,” Maricelle murmured, batting her eyelashes up at the man as he collected his coat. 

“It was my pleasure.” He winked, then carefully opened the door and disappeared. 

“Really? Why are you intent on pursuing every available man even though Father is dying?” I snapped, pursuing my lips. 

“He’s dying,” she shrugged her dainty little shoulders. “I need security.” 

“From a doctor that refuses to help heal a sick man?” 

“Beauty, calm down–” 

“I will _not_ calm down, Harrison,” I hissed, crossing my arms. “Am I the only person in this family who cares what happens to Father? He has raised us single-handedly and loved us–” 

“Stop.” Harrison slammed his fist down on the kitchen table. “If you care so much for Father, do tell where you have been for the past year.” 

“Harrison is right,” Jonathan added with a sneer. “We have been working our asses off trying to provide for this family. Do you have any idea how many debts Father has that we have had to pay off?” 

“I…” I licked my lips. _The beast…if he had only let me see Father sooner…it’s his fault! It’s…no. I should have been more persistent. It is my fault. If I had only been here to take care of Father…_ “I have a basket of breads, cheeses, meats, and tea in my small chest. Let us eat.” 

“I’ll go get it,” Jonathan muttered, striding down the hall toward my old bedroom. 

“Wait, where is James?” I asked, glancing around at my four siblings with concern. “Does he still live here? Did he get married?” 

Delphine exchanged a glance with Harrison. Maricelle looked down at her hands in her lap. 

“Where…where is he?” 

“Father was not the only one who was ill. James died a few months ago,” Delphine explained, her eyes tired and her voice expressionless. “Things have not been well, Beauty.” 

_No…_ I stumbled backwards against the wall, a sob rising in my chest. I bit down on my fist, trying to combat the sorrow washing over me. _This is all my fault. If I had been here to take care of everyone…if I had only been here…Everyone I love is dying or dead._

“You should sit down, you look pale,” Maricelle urged, pulling a chair out from under the table and nodding to it. 

_I thought living without Father was difficult…but I have nothing to complain about. Good lord, I’m so selfish._ I walked toward the chair and took a seat, digging my nails into my palm to control my emotions. “I have other gifts for you. And once Father passes…” I took a deep breath. “You will not be homeless. You will come live with me.” 

I could see relief and a touch of greed glint in Delphine’s eyes as I spoke, but my stomach turned. _Adam is going to kill me._


	14. 'Til Death Do Us Part

“Are you awake?” 

“Yes,” I answered, staring at the window from the straw tick in my room. I hadn’t fallen asleep at all. I had been lying on my bed, staring out the window all night and morning. “I’ll be out in a moment, Delphine.” 

“Fine, just hurry. Now that you’re home, you can take care of Father.” 

Delphine’s heels clicked against the floor as she stalked toward the kitchen and away from my door. 

“Mmm…” I tilted my head, trying to close my eyes. They burned at the darkness, so I opened them once more, regardless of how heavy they felt. 

Pushing myself off the bed, I slipped my feet into my boots and laced them up. I was still wearing the dark pink dress I had worn yesterday, so after smoothing out a few wrinkles, I pulled open my door and headed to Father’s room. 

“Good morning, Father,” I whispered, gently pushing open his door. His room was dark, his thick curtains still covering the window above his dresser. I strode over to them and began tying the moth-eaten fabric back to allow the morning light to trickle in.“It’s a lovely day today. The birds sang to me for hours last night and this morning…” 

“Mphm…” he responded, coughing into his pillow with more strength than he appeared to possess. 

“Shall I fetch some tea?” I turned to face him, taken aback by how much smaller he looked than yesterday. _It’s like he won’t stop shrinking…_ Pain twisted in my gut as I forced a smile on my face. “I’ll prepare some nice chamomile with honey to ease your throat.” 

“Thank…you.” 

“It is my pleasure, Father,” I replied cheerfully, leaning over his bed and kissing his forehead. “I’ll be right back.” 

He murmured something as I left his room, shutting his door behind me. I leaned against the wall, my breaths growing shallow and tears welling up in my already-swollen eyes. _It isn’t fair! He shouldn’t be dying. He cannot be dying. This has to be a dream. A horrible, terrible dream. And I shall wake up and…_ My thoughts were interrupted by a choked sob. I crumpled to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest as my body trembled. _He cannot die. He cannot die. He cannot die._

“Get off the floor,” Maricelle hissed, stomping toward me and grabbing my arm. “Father needs tea. It is not the time to cry.” 

I bit back a sharp retort and nodded woefully. Counting my breaths to even them out, I followed my sister into the kitchen where Delphine was pouring tea into several chipped teacups. A small smile touched my lips. _Chip would love other chipped teacups._

“Why are you standing there and smiling like a foolish wench? Take Father’s tea,” Delphine snapped, holding out a tea cup with hot tea. 

“Sorry,” I muttered under my breath, carefully retrieving the tea and turning on my heel. _Hold it together. You must be strong, Beauty. You must be strong._

“Are you ready for your tea, Father?” I asked, cursing myself as my voice wobbled from my former breakdown. 

“You…you are so…beautiful. Like…your mother.” 

My eyes stung as I sat beside him, setting the tea on the floor and propping up pillows to help him sit up. “Thank you.” 

“The beast…” 

“He is wonderful, Father. Truly. He has treated me like a friend instead of a captive,” I quickly assured him, stroking his thin, gray hair. 

“I…I have worried…so, about you,” he croaked, his voice barely audible between his coughing and wheezing. 

“Do not worry any longer,” I spoke softly, picking up the tea and holding it to his lips. 

He dutifully took a small sip, his eyes closing as the warm liquid coated his throat. “I…I am sorry.” 

“There is no need–” 

“Sorry…I could not…save you.” 

“I am safe, Father. I am safe.” 

“Thank God…that…He has sent…an angel to comfort…me…” 

“No, Father. I am not an angel,” I choked, a lump growing in my throat. “It is me, your daughter. Belle.” 

“I…cannot wait…to see her again. Belle.” 

“I am right here,” I pleaded, setting the tea down and cupping his thin face in my small hands. “Do you not see me, Father? It is Belle! I am safe. I am here, Father.” 

“If…I could have…only saved her…my sweet Belle.” 

Despite my best efforts, a tear slipped down my pale cheek. “Father…” 

His eyes turned and locked with mine, a wide smile growing on his face. “Belle…” 

“Yes! I am here,” I sniffled, caressing his cheeks with my thumbs. 

“I cannot…wait…to see, to see you…again.” 

My heart sank as he began gasping for breath, his eyes wide and his mouth open. 

“Delphine! Maricelle! Hurry!” I screamed, pulling Father close against my bosom. “No, Father. No, no, no! Not yet. I cannot lose you yet. You have to meet Adam! And Mrs. Potts. You’ll love Mrs. Potts. And Lumiere and Cogsworth! You must come see the castle and…” 

“Belle…” he whispered, his eyes transfixed upon me, almost as if he were looking right through me at someone else. His thin, white lips curled into a smile as he exhaled deeply. His chest did not rise again. 

“No! No! Wake up, Father! Wake up,” I sobbed, kissing his cheeks and his nose and his forehead over and over, as if it would help revive him. “Do not leave me. Do not leave me here alone! Father, come back to me…” 

Several arms wrapped around me and fingers pried my hands loose from the limp form I was gripping. 

“He’s gone, Beauty. He’s gone,” Delphine repeated, pulling me off the bed as Maricelle ran her fingers over his eyelids, shutting them. 

“No…” my bottom lip quivered and my chest heaved. “No! He cannot be gone!” 

“Compose yourself,” Delphine growled, shaking me. “You knew he was dying. Now it is time to decide what will happen to us.” 

“Compose…myself?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “He is _dead_ , Delphine. He is dead…” 

“So is Mother. Now, I’ll have Harrison run into town and fetch a priest so we can hurry up and bury him before he begins to rot.” 

“Let me go!” I yelled, breaking free of Delphine’s grasp and launching myself onto the bed beside Father. My arms wrapped around his still body and I buried my head in his neck, drenching his body with my tears. My stomach twisted and a strange feeling of numbness flooded my senses. _He’s gone…he’s really…gone…He will never know how happy I was at the castle…_

“Beauty, we have things to do. Move on.” 

“Just leave her, Delphine,” Maricelle sighed. “Let’s go find Harrison and Jonathan.” 

As my two sisters left Father’s room, shutting the door behind them, I sat up and gazed at the man I loved. 

“I failed you, Father. Now I can never ask for your forgiveness…” My voice trembled as I took in the sight of the once strong, robust man who always supported, encouraged, and loved me. Instead of just Father, however, another image floated around my head. The beast. “I will return quickly, Adam. I promise.” 

I bowed my head, resting it against Father’s forehead. “I will not fail anyone else I love. I swear it upon you, Father. I will not fail again.” 

In the quiet stillness of the tiny, dank room, I could have sworn I saw the faintest hint of a smile upon Father’s silent lips. A sudden comforting calmness settled over me. _Goodbye, Father._


	15. A Surprising Gift

“Oh my heavens, you really _are_ alive!” 

My eyes widened and a scowl flashed across my face as Harrison stepped through the doorway accompanied by a familiar man. 

“Why is he here?” 

“He…he has a…” 

“I can take care of you and your family, Beauty. Now that your Father has passed–” 

“I am not interested, Gaston. And I never will be,” I snarled, crossing my arms and glaring at the creature before me. _He is more of a monster than the beast ever was._

“I brought you a gift, of which I am certain you will approve,” Gaston chuckled, retrieving three books from his bag and offering them to me. 

_Don’t take them, don’t take them, you have thousands of books at the mansion…ugh, I can’t help it._ I reached for the books, slowing my movements to avoid appearing too eager. 

“Would you like to stay the night, Gaston? It is such a long journey back to the village,” Delphine swooned, a dreamy expression washing over her features. “We have an extra room now that Father’s dead.” 

I squeezed my eyes shut, hugging the books to my chest. _Just let it go, Beauty._

“I would be honored. Beauty, may I speak to you outside?” Gaston redirected his attention to me. 

“You can talk to me right here in the kitchen,” I replied dryly, opening my eyes and making sure to look as annoyed as possible. 

“Very well…” he drawled, rolling his shoulders back. “Marry me, Beauty. And I will provide for you and your family–” 

“Never!” I cried, taking a few steps backwards. “My Father died not four hours ago and you are already taking advantage of his death?” 

“Beauty, you should consider his offer,” Harrison coughed, narrowing his eyes at me with a warning glance. “He could take care of all of us.” 

“Your brother is wise,” Gaston agreed, winking suggestively at me. “You know I am rich beyond measure–” 

“I am in love with someone else.” 

The room fell silent and I could feel a blush rising in my cheeks. 

“Not…not the beast you live with…” Delphine whispered, covering her mouth in horror. 

“You must be joking,” Gaston laughed, but eyed me with concern. 

“I…I love him.” 

“And do you plan to marry this bastard who has held you prisoner for so long?” 

“No! It is not…it is not that kind of love.” My shoulders slumped as I struggled to find a way to explain. “He…he is my best friend. And he provides very well for me.” 

“You would pass up a marriage to _me_ because of a wretched beast whose companionship you enjoy?” Gaston gasped, his handsome features twisting into shock. 

“You would never understand it,” I murmured, staring down at the books. “Why not marry Delphine? Or Maricelle?” 

“I would not object,” Delphine piped up, straightening her figure to show off her curves. “You would find me quite agreeable, Gaston.” 

Gaston glanced at my oldest sister and shrugged. “She is not you.” 

“You are despicable,” I hissed, venturing to meet his gaze. “Leave me alone or…” 

“Or? I thought women liked persistent men,” he smirked, taking a step closer to me. 

I shrank back, racking my mind for a solid threat. “Or I will ask the beast to…to stop you.” 

“Stop me?” Gaston chuckled, advancing toward me with slow, calculating steps. 

I stumbled backwards until my back hit the wall, but Gaston continued until he blocked any way of escape. “Y-yes. The beast would stop you if I asked him to.” _He would…wouldn’t he? We did not leave on the best of terms…but perhaps if he knew Gaston…_

“I am starting to wonder if this beast is even real at all,” the arrogant man chuckled, searching my face for some sort of confirmation. “Does he even exist, Beauty? Or have you found another lover and you are far too shy to explain? Did your Father actually die of illness, or was he heartbroken over your decision?” 

“Stop,” my voice cracked as tears began to well in my eyes. “Please, just stop.” 

“Oh, did I hit a nerve? Am I correct in my assumptions?” 

_Perhaps Father did die over a broken heart…not knowing whether or not I was dead or alive. Perhaps…perhaps it is my fault._

“No. Beauty would never do something like that,” Harrison broke in, his voice quavering just slightly. 

“Or would she?” Gaston pressed, his hand grabbing my waist and pulling me against him. 

“No, I do not have a lover nor shall I ever,” I replied, silently praising how steady my tone remained. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have preparations to attend to.” 

“What preparations could be more important than talking to me?” 

“Father’s grave and packing mine and my siblings things. We are leaving at the end of the week,” I stated, wriggling out of Gaston’s disgusting embrace. 

“We are?” Delphine raised her eyebrow with uncertainty. 

“Yes. I told you I would have a place for you to stay,” I reminded her, ignoring Gaston’s look of displeasure. 

“Or you could simply marry me–” 

“No. And please cease your relentlessness because my answer will always be no.” I glared at him, then turned and stalked down the hall to my room. After setting the books upon the musty straw tick, I walked to Father’s room to begin stripping it. 

“She will come around once she realizes my company is much more…exciting than that of her captor,” Gaston purred, raising his voice just enough so I could hear. 

_Never._ An involuntary shudder shook my shoulders as I began taking the curtains down from Father’s window. All of the cloth in the room would need to be burned to prevent anyone else catching tuberculosis. _I cannot lose anyone else._

“Would you like some help?” a quiet voice asked, knocking softly against the doorway. 

“You want to help?” I glanced over my shoulder at Maricelle. 

She shrugged, but a small smile rested on her face. “Yes.” 

“Help me take all the bedding, clothing, and the straw tick outside so we can burn it.” 

A heavy silence rested between us as we rolled up Father’s blankets, sheets, and clothes into a tight ball on the straw tick. Maricelle picked up the faded rug besides Father’s bed and set it on our pile. 

“I wish…not that…” My throat tightened as I took in the dark purple and gold embroidered rug that Mother had made Father as a wedding present so many years ago. 

“Everything.” 

I nodded, my eyes burning with tears. We took the end of the straw tick and rolled the pile into the center of the tick. Maricelle grabbed the end while I took the front. We carried the large bundle through the kitchen, where Gaston and Delphine appeared to be in engaged in a secret conversation, and out the front door to a dusty, bare spot in front of the tiny cottage. 

“I’ll go retrieve some coals from the fire,” Maricelle offered, dropping her end of the bundle and walking delicately toward the house. 

_I wish Adam was here…_ I sighed. _Is he still mad at me for breaking the spell? I hope not. I wonder how Chip is doing. I hope he’s not too lonely. I did promise to come back…_

“Ready?” Maricelle broke my thoughts as she handed me a tin plate with two burning coals upon it. 

“Yes.” I grabbed the plate and tossed the coals onto the stack of cloth. Small flames began licking at the materials, quickly engulfing it in a colorful sweep of dark orange and yellow blaze. 

“Are you…alright?” 

“No,” I whispered, transfixed by the fire before me as it consumed all traces of Father’s belongings. I didn’t try to hide the tears slipping down my cheeks. _He’s gone…he’s really gone…_

Maricelle rested her hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “You should go inside.” 

Nodding numbly, I allowed my sister to lead me inside. I shivered at the crackling and hissing of the fire behind me. Maricelle wrapped her arms around me with more affection and comfort than she had ever offered me before. 

“I…I know you loved him. I am sorry he is gone…for your sake,” she remarked in a quiet tone, opening the door into the house. 

“Thanks,” I mumbled, stepping across the threshold and striding toward the hall before Gaston could interrupt. 

Opening the door to my tiny bedroom, my gaze landed on the books Gaston had presented me with earlier. _Perhaps a little reading will improve my mood…unlikely, but perhaps._ I shut the door, rolling my eyes as the door knob clattered to the ground. I had almost forgotten how loose it was. 

I sat down on a rickety wooden stool and began looking over the three novels. The titles were foreign to me and, no matter how heavy my heart was, I could not help the excitement swirling inside me to read a new book. I picked up a small, brown book and eyed it carefully. It had no title on the cloth cover, nor on the inside pages. Flipping through the first few sheets, I skimmed the words that seemed to form a list. 

“Oh…my…” 

The words were not forming just any list. They were forming a list of ingredients for spells. I leafed through several more pages and landed on one with foreign words. _Enchantments…_

With a laugh, I jumped up from my seat and raced into the kitchen. Gaston grinned as I approached him, fervently waving the small novel in front of his face. 

“Gaston, where did you get this book?” 

“Why…the stack of books you saved from the fire.” 

“Thank you,” I laughed, my eyes lighting up as I pressed my lips to the cover of the enchantment book. 

Gaston smirked, puffing out his chest. “I told you I loved you and–” 

“Oh, this changes nothing,” I assured him. With a flounce of my skirts for emphasis, I glided down the hall to my room. Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it and began skimming the pages of the spell book. 

_There must be something in here to help Adam…surely there must be._ Narrowing my eyes, I ran my finger down the pages until it landed on one word: beast. I grinned. 

“Perfect.” 


	16. The Persistent Stalker

“Please, Harrison. Our family is poor, starving, and dying. If you come with me, I can fix all of that,” I pleaded, searching my brother’s eyes for a sliver of interest in my proposal. 

“Gaston is a more reliable answer to our problem,” Harrison snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at me. “Why do you refuse to listen to me? I am the man of this family now and I am commanding you to put this family first by marrying Gaston.”

“You do not understand the wealth that Adam has,” I argued. “He can provide for our family longer and more lavishly than the weasel in our kitchen can ever hope of doing!”

“He is a beast, Beauty.”

“Not anymore! He is as human as you and I.”

“He has put a spell on you,” Harrison ground his teeth. “That is the only explanation for how irrational you’re acting.”

“I am not the one acting irrational. I am the one trying to take care of our family!”

“That is not your place.”

“Why not?”

“You’re simply a woman. I am the man of the house now.”

My hands clenched into fists and my nostrils flared as rage burned through my veins. “At least I _love_ this family, which is something you can never claim.”

“Silence!”

I flinched at Harrison’s sharp tone, taking a half-step backwards. _I should not have said that…_

“Marry Gaston, Beauty. Or leave. It shouldn’t be too hard for you to abandon this family once more. But if you love us, as you claim,” he strode to my bedroom door and opened it, pausing momentarily to look back at me. “…you will marry Gaston.”

Dread and guilt swirled in my stomach, sending me reeling backwards onto my tick. _Perhaps…it is my duty to marry Gaston. Perhaps my family will love me if I do…Perhaps that really is the only way to save them._ I shifted my weight upon the tick, flinching as a hard object stabbed the side of my leg. _The spell book._ Sighing, I grabbed the book from under me and stared at the page it was open to. The spell to turn Adam back into a beast.

“I cannot abandon him,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as my eyes stung with unshed tears. “But I cannot abandon my family either…”

My throat tightened and the tears I struggled to hold back betrayed me, slipping down my flushed cheeks. Setting the book beside me, I fell backwards on the blankets, gazing at the roof above me through blurry vision. “Father…I do not know what to do. I do not know…what I should do.”

I ran my fingertips across the worn spell book and sighed. _If only Adam were here…he would know what to do. I wish I could see him._ I sat up suddenly, my grip growing firmer on the book. _What’s stopping me from seeing him? I could go and talk to him tonight when everyone is asleep, turn him back into a beast, then return before dawn and no one would know…_

I stood up from my tick, brushing straw off my skirts, then peered out the small window in my room. The vivid pinks, oranges, and yellows decorated the setting sun and colored the silky clouds floating listlessly in the sky. _I need only wait a few hours to make my journey._

With a warm heart and a cheerful smile on my face, I grabbed a book off my stool and headed toward the kitchen to read by the fire. As I stepped lightly across the kitchen and settled into a chair by the fire, the door blew open and heavy footsteps marred my joyous mood.

“Why, Beauty! What a pleasure to see you making use of my gift,” Gaston chuckled, kneeling and stacking several large logs in the fire.

“I already had this book, Gaston,” I returned, avoiding his gaze and flipping to the third chapter. “I merely enjoy rereading my favorites.”

“What is the book about?”

I raised an eyebrow, glancing up at the man with surprise. “You really want to know?”

“I want to know about everything you love, Beauty,” Gaston smiled, his lips curling into a slight smirk.

“Well,” I began, clearing my throat. “It is about a young woman who is being pursued by a stalker and in the end, she kills him for his persistent harassment.”

Frowning, Gaston stood up from the fire and shook his head. “A tragedy that she should refuse someone so devoted.”

“If you read the story, you would understand that he was a monstrous, selfish man who both annoyed and frightened the young woman.”

“Women should seek comfort in men,” Gaston nodded thoughtfully. “We have only the…purest intentions.”

I choked, shaking my head and pushing my chair back. “I think I should fetch Maricelle so we can start supper. Perhaps you should be on your way before it gets too dark?”

“Nonsense, I am spending the night here. Your family deserves a strong man in the house to protect them. But…if I am being honest, I only care about protecting you, Beauty,” Gaston whispered in a deep, husky voice. He grabbed my hand and kissed it, his slimy lips leaving saliva on my fingers. 

Shuddering, I retracted my hand and glared. “The only protection I need is protection from you, Gaston! If you will excuse me.” With a curt nod, I swept out of the kitchen with my head held high and anger curling up around my heart. 

_What a repulsive creature. Why will he not give up?_

“Beauty? Is that you?” the soft, sweet voice of Maricelle asked as I knocked on her door. 

“Yes,” I replied, my voice harder than I intended. “It is time to fix supper. Gaston will be joining us.”

Maricelle opened her door and tilted her head sympathetically. “He told Harrison he would be spending the week with us until we sorted out our financial state and…”

“And me?”

“Yes.”

“Ah.”

“You should marry him, Beauty. He only wants you,” Delphine’s shrill voice demanded, bitterness laced around every word as she pushed past Maricelle and stalked into the kitchen.

My sister and I stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment before she shrugged and led the way to the kitchen. 

“Gaston,” Maricelle spoke up as we entered the kitchen. “Would you be so kind as to assist Harrison in the barn? I believe he was having trouble with some of the animals.”

“I am certain I would be of better help in the kitchen with Beauty,” Gaston countered, his sly eyes meeting mine. 

“That is a woman’s work,” Delphine protested. “Your talents would be wasted helping us stir the stew and warm the bread.”

“My talents?” Gaston’s disgusting smirk filled his features and he puffed his chest. “Quite right, I shall be back as soon as I help Harrison.”

“He will be most obliged,” I murmured, lowering my eyes and fighting the growing disdain flooding my senses.

“I shall accompany you!” Delphine offered, linking her arm in Gaston’s before he could refuse.

I could practically hear Gaston’s ego increasing as he strode out the door with a bounce in his step. _I loathe that man._

“Would it really be so terrible if you agreed to wed him?” Maricelle asked, uncovering the bread and setting it on a tray in the bread oven. “He is wealthy and could provide large dowries for Delphine and me.”

I sighed, guilt rushing over me at my sister’s earnestness. “I can never wed Gaston. But Adam could provide for you as well. And he is kind, Maricelle. And he does not ask for anything in return. He is my truest friend.”

Maricelle said nothing as she began dicing potatoes for the stew, but I noticed her demeanor grow melancholy. 

“What can I do to help?” 

“The very thing you refuse to do, Beauty. Provide for our family.”

My eyes widened at the verbal slap Maricelle dealt me. _Am I being selfish for not wanting to wed anyone, least of all the man that could provide for my family? Am I ruining everyone’s chances of happiness and security?_

“What of my happiness, Maricelle? Gaston could never make me happy,” I argued, crossing my arms across my chest in defiance.

“And what of starvation?” Maricelle slammed the knife onto the counter and turned to glare at me. “Would your happiness continue as our family starves to death? Or perhaps as we grow ill like Father? How will your happiness continue then? The coins you gave us are nearly gone, we have two gold pieces left. We have nothing!”

“I am going to make this right, I promise you! But it cannot be Gaston. He is not our savior, he is a monster.”

Tears began rolling down Maricelle’s cheeks and she hastily brushed them away. “Just go. I do not need your help preparing supper.”

_Just go…I could just go to Adam now…and fix everything before it is too late._

“I’ll be in my room, please do not disturb me for supper. I am not hungry.”

“Fine.”

“Goodnight,” I said, nodding at Maricelle before I exited the kitchen and walked to my room. Shutting the door tightly behind me, I bolted it from the inside and pushed a chair against the doorknob to prevent someone from opening it. I grabbed my cloak off my bed and threw it around my shoulders, fastening it under my neck. 

With the spell book in hand, I pressed my ear against the wall and listened for Harrison and Gaston’s footsteps. Nearly fifteen minutes past before I heard the door open and the smug, boisterous voice of Gaston congratulate Harrison on his work on a stall in the barn. Delphine’s high-pitched fake laughter filled the house at something Gaston had said and I rolled my eyes. 

Refusing to let another minute pass, I crawled out of my window and landed almost silently on the dirt below. I sprinted to the barn to fetch my horse, my cloak billowing out behind me and a frigid wind wrapping around my skirts. _I’m coming to see you, Adam. I told you I would be back. Just a few hours…_ I pulled open the barn door just enough for a horse to get through, then whistled quietly. The gentle gelding approached me, nickering and rubbing his nose against my cloak. 

“Your dark coat will be perfect for riding at night,” I murmured, grinning at the taste of freedom just moments away. 

I set the spell book on a wooden bucket as I placed the saddle on the horse’s back and tightened the girth. He accepted the bit easily when I slipped the reins over his head and offered him the metal piece. I kissed the tip of his nose. “Good boy.”

Nestling the spell book into one of the leather saddle bags, I swung into the saddle and adjusted my skirts and cloak around me. I pressed my heels into his side and he began a slow walk toward the barn door. 

_I cannot wait to see Adam, running into his arms and hugging him. And Mrs. Potts and Chip would be so happy to see me as well. And oh, how I missed Lumiere and Cogsworth…_ I applied more pressure to the horse’s side but he stopped and stared at a dark shadow blocking the exit. 

“Gaston…”


End file.
